Carol Cox

by Trouble in Store

  Levi edged past him, tiptoeing as if he, too, was unnerved by the unaccustomed quiet. “Where’s Miss Ross, Papa?”

  Caleb shushed him and kept his own voice low. “I don’t know, son.” Let’s just be grateful for small favors.

  He shut the door softly, then took off his jacket and hung it on the nearby peg. “Keep your voice down. Maybe she’s still asleep.”

  He wouldn’t be surprised if she had overslept, considering her level of activity over the past few days. Every morning since she’d moved into the rooms above the mercantile, he had arrived to find some new change in place—a section of merchandise completely rearranged, new displays set up on small tables scattered about the store. It reminded him of the story he’d heard as a boy about the shoemaker and the elves, where the cobbler came downstairs every morning to make some happy discovery. But the discoveries he’d been making of late weren’t pleasant ones—they were downright irritating. And they hadn’t been orchestrated by friendly elves. These annoying alterations were the work of that human cyclone of activity, Melanie Ross.

  After checking to make sure Levi had taken up residence in his fort, Caleb went to get his apron. His toe caught on some protruding object, and he had to grab at a nearby shelf to keep from falling. He looked around for the cause of his stumble and scowled when he realized he had tripped over one of Melanie’s displays. He had warned her those little tables were apt to cause some unsuspecting customer to take a spill, but she hadn’t paid him any mind. She insisted the display tables made their goods more visible and would draw more interest, and thus help increase their sales.

  It was a disaster in the making—Caleb knew it. A double disaster, since she refused to use the tables to showcase their less expensive items. No, that would be too simple. Melanie Ross’s idea of salesmanship was to bring out the more costly items that hadn’t been selling well.

  And she knew they hadn’t been selling because—in addition to cleaning, setting up a new inventory list, and devising endless ideas for “improvement”—she had been going over the store’s records after hours. Just the thought of it all was enough to make Caleb tired.

  He had no idea when the woman managed to get any sleep. She was some sort of dynamo, one that never seemed to run out of energy. He had seen a light burning in the store every night when he looked out the window of his house before going to bed. And every morning he and Levi arrived to find her busily sweeping the back stoop. Until this morning, that is.

  Apparently even dynamos ran out of steam eventually. And here was the perfect opportunity to undo some of the upheaval she had created. Caleb grinned and rubbed his hands, ready to make good use of the gift of time he’d been given. Where to begin?

  His eyes lit on the case holding the mercantile’s stock of pistols, now partially obscured by a collection of doilies and antimacassars she had arranged on the glass top. He scooped up the crocheted goods and started back toward the shelf where he kept the decorative oil lamps.

  A piercing shriek split the morning quiet, and the doilies slipped from his fingers, raining down onto the floor. Another shriek sounded, followed by the clattering of feet as Levi plummeted down the stairs and dove into his fort.

  Caleb forgot all about the doilies. He dashed toward the stairs, shooting a quick glance under the counter, where Levi curled into a little ball as though trying to make himself invisible. “What’s going on, son?”

  “I’ll tell you what’s going on.”

  Caleb looked up to see Melanie at the top of the stairs. She descended halfway to the ground floor with an ominous tread. Caleb’s eyes widened when he realized she wasn’t even dressed yet. With one hand she clutched a light, flowered wrapper around her trim waist. Her bare toes peeped out from under the hem. Her hair, which he’d only seen pulled back in a low coil, hung over one shoulder in a heavy braid.

  He stared, unable to tear his gaze away. It took him a moment to realize she was still speaking.

  “Are you listening to me, Mr. Nelson?” Her toes tapped a steady beat on the wooden step.

  Caleb moved his focus from her slim figure to her face and flinched when he met her outraged expression. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

  Her nostrils flared, and her expression grew even more indignant. “As I have been trying to tell you, I was awakened by a noise, and when I opened my eyes, what should I find but your son peering down at me. In my bedroom, Mr. Nelson!”

  Caleb cast an uneasy glance toward the counter.

  “I had just opened my mouth to ask him what he was doing there, when he shoved this into my face.” She pulled her other hand from the folds of the wrapper and held up a wriggling green object.

  Caleb gaped at the sight of Levi’s pet frog. He sucked in his breath. No wonder she’d screeched.

  “Levi,” he began in a stern tone.

  Only a slight scuttling noise gave any hint of the boy’s presence.

  Caleb raised his voice. “Levi, come out here now.”

  Levi emerged from his hiding place and shuffled over to stand beside Caleb, his gaze fastened on the floorboards. “I only wanted to show her Freddie.”

  “What have I told you about—”

  Melanie cut in. “I am not finished. Can you imagine the shock I felt? And when I cried out, he dropped the creature on my—” A dark red flush suffused her face and neck. “On my bosom.” She raised her hand to pat the area beneath her throat, then realized Freddie was still in her grasp. She grimaced and held the amphibian out at arm’s length.

  “Be careful. You might drop him.” Levi hurried over to rescue Freddie from her grasp. He cradled the frog to his skinny chest and glared at his accuser. “I couldn’t help it. You scared him, and he jumped out of my hand. I tried to get him back, but . . .”

  Levi’s voice trailed off as Melanie raised her eyebrows and narrowed her eyes.

  It didn’t take much imagination for Caleb to picture the scene: Freddie leaping from Levi’s hand onto Melanie Ross’s . . . chest . . . and Levi diving to retrieve him. He squeezed his eyes shut. That would explain the second shriek and Levi’s precipitous retreat.

  Melanie cleared her throat like a schoolmistress calling a daydreaming student back to attention. “I realize I overslept this morning, Mr. Nelson. But that is no excuse to have my privacy invaded in this manner. I am quite aware that my presence here is unwelcome, but surely even here in the West a lady has a right to expect—” Her voice cracked and her chin began to tremble. Without another word, she whirled and ran back upstairs. A moment later, Caleb heard the sound of her door closing, followed by the decisive click of a lock.

  He bent over, scooped Levi up in his arms, and set the young miscreant on the counter, putting him at eye level. “Let me explain something to you. Gentlemen do not enter a lady’s bedroom. Ever. Is that clear?”

  Levi opened his mouth as if to argue, then studied Caleb’s expression and seemed to change his mind. “Yes, Papa.”

  “When Miss Ross comes downstairs again, you will apologize to her. Like a gentleman. Do you understand?”

  The boy’s shoulders sagged, but he nodded. “Yes, Papa.”

  Twenty minutes later, Melanie descended the staircase for the second time that morning. The difference in her appearance couldn’t have been more striking. This time, her hair was drawn back into its usual loose coil, with not a strand out of place. Instead of the flowered wrapper, her slender figure was now encased in a pale blue dress. Her face, however, was still set in the same taut lines.

  “Good morning, Mr. Nelson.”

  Caleb nodded.

  “Good morning, Levi.”

  “Good morning, Miss Ross.” Levi spoke in a subdued tone. He started to edge away toward his fort, but Caleb cleared his throat and gave his son a meaningful look.

  Levi’s face assumed a stoic expression, and he stood at attention, like one of his tin soldiers preparing to face a firing squad. “Miss Ross, I’m sorry for scaring you like that. I just wanted to show you Freddie
. He really is a nice frog. You’ll like him once you get to know him better.”

  Melanie folded her hands in front of her waist and looked at him with a steady gaze. “If and when I decide to make Freddie’s acquaintance, it will be at a time of my own choosing. Is that clear?”

  Levi gulped. “Yes’m.”

  Caleb braced himself for another round of arguments in Freddie’s defense, but Levi merely retreated to his hideout. Keeping a wary eye on Melanie, Caleb went back to the task of restoring the mercantile to its previous state.

  She disappeared into the back and returned carrying a rectangular rosewood box adorned with a delicate tracery of inlaid wood. “I found this music box on a shelf in the storeroom. Where would you like me to put it?”

  Caleb gritted his teeth. “Right back on the shelf where you found it.”

  “Why? This is part of our inventory, isn’t it? It’s a beautiful item, but you can hardly expect to sell it if it isn’t on display.”

  “I don’t intend to sell it.” When Melanie arched her eyebrows in a silent question, he continued, “Uncle Alvin always kept it there in the back. I asked him about it once, but all he said was that it had a certain sentimental value to him. Therefore, it holds a sentimental value for me, as well. Which means it stays on its shelf in the storeroom, and not out here.”

  She opened her mouth as if to argue, but then to Caleb’s surprise, she turned and flounced into the storeroom without further protest. When she returned, she hesitated near the foot of the stairs, obviously wanting to comment on the changes he was making. Instead, she pulled a feather duster from under the counter and went to work on the shelves holding bottles of patent remedies.

  Caleb watched her while he went through the motions of folding and restacking a pile of men’s shirts. As he worked, his thoughts strayed back to the way she’d looked earlier, standing before him barefoot in her wrapper. The sight had affected him more deeply than he’d been aware of at the time, bringing back memories of comfortable family times spent around the fireplace with Levi and Corinna. Back in the days when everything seemed right with his world.

  Melanie readjusted a bottle that wasn’t quite lined up with the rest, then bent to dust the bottom shelf. Caleb took in the smooth lines of her skirt. Despite her assumptions that he had no concern for his female customers, he had been studying the most recent issues of Godey’s Lady’s Book in an effort to educate himself on the current fashions. Unlike Ophelia Pike, the majority of the women in Cedar Ridge shunned the recent resurgence of the bustle, opting for practicality over style. Melanie Ross appeared to be of the same mind, since a bustle obviously was not part of her attire.

  Caleb’s eyes widened, and he whipped his head around, concentrating all his attention on folding shirts instead of letting his eyes rove where they shouldn’t. What was he thinking? He had no business noticing whether she wore a bustle or not. For all her irritating qualities, Melanie was obviously a lady.

  A lady, to be sure, and an irritating one at that. One who didn’t hesitate to stand her ground when she believed she was right, which seemed to be most of the time. One whose gray eyes flashed like a stormy sky when she grew angry. But that pretty well summed up what he had learned about her to date. And those were mostly superficial things. What of the person that lay underneath?

  Without thinking, he blurted out, “What were you doing before you came out west?”

  Melanie straightened and flicked the feather duster over a row of bottles. “I was a governess.”

  A governess? Then surely Levi wouldn’t have been the first high-spirited child she had come across.

  As if reading his thoughts, she tucked the feather duster under one arm and tilted her chin. “I am not unfamiliar with the antics of headstrong children. In my last position, the young boy in my charge was every bit as—” She broke off and shot a glance toward the counter, then cleared her throat and continued. “I apologize if my behavior this morning seemed a bit overdone, but I was taken utterly by surprise. You have to admit, being roused from sleep to find a frog dangling just inches from one’s face would be enough to unnerve almost anybody.”

  Caleb grimaced, but he had to agree she made a good point. “You’re right. Under the circumstances, I believe you handled yourself rather well.” A sudden inspiration struck. “You’ve been working hard ever since you got here. I think you ought to take a little time off.”

  She looked at him as if weighing the possible meanings behind his offer. The doubt faded and her face brightened. “That is an excellent idea. I’ve been longing for a chance to see more of the town, and some fresh air will do me good.”

  Her quick agreement took Caleb off guard. Could it be the hard work was beginning to take its toll, and she was losing interest in becoming a storekeeper? He tried not to let his sudden spurt of optimism show.

  “Yes,” she continued with a decisive nod. “If we’re going to make a success of this joint endeavor, it’s imperative that I learn more about the people we serve. I’ll just get my shawl and be on my way.”

  Caleb watched her go upstairs, his brief hope fading as quickly as it had been born. That didn’t sound like the statement of a person who was ready to give up.

  8

  Melanie smoothed her skirts, looped the strings of her reticule over her left arm, and stepped out into a perfect spring day. Cottony clouds floated in a brilliant blue sky. Even the light breeze that caressed her cheeks seemed to celebrate the joy of spring, carrying the hint of apple blossoms mingled with the scents of the high desert. The fresh, clean tang did wonders to dispel the heavy weight that had settled on her shoulders ever since she’d first stepped through the doors of the mercantile.

  She stood on the boardwalk and drew in a lungful of the invigorating western air. Other than sweeping off the stoop behind the store and the boardwalk out front, she had barely set foot outside since her arrival. Caleb was right. She had been spending too much time indoors. If she intended to make Cedar Ridge her new home, she needed to become more a part of it. And if she hoped to improve business at the mercantile, she had to get acquainted with the people in the area. Knowing their customers would be a key to making the store a success.

  Which way to go? She scanned the length of Lincoln Street. From the limited time she’d spent outdoors, she had already seen the businesses directly opposite the mercantile and the saloon to the left.

  To the right, then. She set off briskly, taking note of each building she passed. Next door to the mercantile was the freight office, Rafe Sutton, proprietor. Melanie sniffed as she walked past. The sight of the building brought back the memory of her arduous trip over the rutted trail from Fort Verde to Cedar Ridge, perched beside a scraggly-bearded driver who seemed compelled to launch a stream of tobacco juice at every bush they passed. Their journey was an event she—and her aching backside—would long remember.

  A little farther down the street she came to a dressmaker’s shop, a neat little establishment with a sign in the window reading By appointment only. That was more like it. Melanie cupped her hand around her eyes and peered through the window. A smile lit her face as she took in the array of fabric and notions. She had already seen copies of Godey’s Lady’s Book in the mercantile. She would study them carefully for clues as to what the dressmaker might need, as well as the ladies in the community who didn’t avail themselves of the seamstress’s services.

  As she passed the bakery, she grinned and dug in her reticule for a pencil and scrap of paper. She’d better start making notes. Ideas were coming fast and furious, and she’d never be able to remember them all. She licked the tip of the pencil and began to write.

  A small clapboard building was next, set back a little way from the boardwalk. Above the door hung a wooden placard bearing the words Jonas Mills, M.D.

  Melanie’s brow furrowed. Doctors needed medicine, of course, along with some very specialized equipment. Apart from the patent medicines she’d seen on the shelves, did they carry anything of that s
ort in the mercantile? She made a note to ask Caleb.

  The doors of the plaster building that housed the bank stood wide open to the fresh air. Behind the teller’s window stood Mr. Henderson, the young man she had seen on the day of her arrival. Melanie tapped her pencil against the paper. What kinds of things could they keep in stock for babies and children? That opened up a whole new array of items to explore. She scribbled a quick note and walked on by.

  She reached the end of Lincoln Street and stepped off the boardwalk onto the hard-packed tan dirt, so different than the black, loamy soil she had been accustomed to in Ohio. She stood for a moment gazing to her right, then to her left. It appeared that Lincoln Street comprised the full extent of Cedar Ridge’s business district. Little more lay beyond, save for a few scattered houses. And in the distance . . . Oh, my!

  Beyond the edge of town lay a vast landscape dotted with the sprawling cedars that must have given the town its name. Farther out, a line of trees bearing darker foliage meandered off in an undulating line. And behind those trees hung a backdrop of tawny hills. Some of the pale brown slopes were adorned with more cedars, while others, streaked with pinkish layers, rose up in sheer cliffs surmounted by a ridge of barren rocks. The effect was absolutely breathtaking.

  Melanie pressed one hand against her throat and stared in wonder. Is this the place where I’m going to live out the rest of my days? The scene before her couldn’t have been more different from the one she’d grown up with. There were no tree-lined streets, no lush green lawns with carefully tended shrubs. This was raw. Rugged. Wild.

  And yet a sense of rightness washed over her, a feeling of coming home.