THE HARDWARE STORE STANDOFF
Chapter I: The Counter and the Screaming Customer
The winter wind outside Miller’s Hardware rattled the frosted glass panes of the front entrance, but inside, the heat from the wood stove was drowned out by the shrill screech of an enraged customer.
Standing at the front checkout counter in an expensive beige puffer jacket and burgundy turtleneck was Amanda Sterling, a wealthy newcomer who had recently bought a vacation cabin on the ridge. Amanda leaned across the wooden counter, her eyes wide and furious, glaring at the store owner.
"You people need to learn who keeps this town alive!" Amanda shouted, slamming her leather purse onto the laminate top. Behind her in line, local townspeople in winter coats shifted uncomfortably, shaking their heads.
Behind the register stood Frank Miller.
Frank was a man in his late sixties with a neatly trimmed white mustache, silver wire-rimmed glasses, and a red-and-black buffalo plaid flannel shirt. He had owned Miller’s Hardware for forty years, having served the county through blizzards, floods, and economic downturns. His hands rested calmly on the counter, his posture steady and entirely unfazed.
"Pay the posted price," Frank said, his voice flat, low, and immovable. "Or leave."