Carol Cox (11 page)

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Authors: Trouble in Store

BOOK: Carol Cox
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And that wouldn’t hurt his business, either. He rubbed his hands together. It was a great plan, as brilliant as anything the Professor could conceive. It would be the perfect solution for both of them. He couldn’t wait to put it into action.

10

M
elanie reached for the pair of scissors on the fabric table and guided them carefully, cutting along the lines of the pattern in the blue gingham. Business had been slow so far, but the lack of customers didn’t bother her. The lull had given her time to work on one of her pet projects. With any luck, she would have it finished before Caleb and Levi returned from their fishing expedition.

She grinned as she wrapped the loose end of gingham around the bolt, remembering Caleb’s insistence on reviewing every detail of his daily routine before they left. His panic at the thought of leaving her in charge was almost palpable. She spread the two cut lengths of fabric on the table and smoothed them with her hands. What did he think she was going to do—burn the store down in his absence?

The thought brought a chuckle, which faded quickly when she realized that might be exactly what had been worrying him. It was painfully obvious that the only reason he’d taken the day off was because Levi needed time with him,
not because he believed her capable of tending the mercantile on her own.

She folded several inches of the first length of fabric over along one long edge and began to sew it in place with small, neat stitches. She would show him just how capable she was. In addition to spending her days watching Caleb to learn how he ran the business and handled customers, she had been working equally hard after hours, dividing her time between studying the store’s records and making the changes she felt sure would improve the mercantile.

She reached the end of the fabric and made a few tight stitches to anchor the thread before snipping off the end. Today, she had the luxury of having the store to herself during daylight hours, a perfect opportunity to prove what could be done with a little ingenuity and effort. She looked up when the bell sounded and a woman who could have stepped straight out of the pages of
Godey’s Lady’s Book
swept into the store.

Melanie blinked. The modish attire would have fit right in with the Deavers and their circle of friends, but it looked oddly out of place in Cedar Ridge.

The woman turned in a slow circle, as though looking for someone—for Caleb, Melanie realized. At the sight of her imperious mien and stylish dress, the pieces came together. The woman fit Caleb’s description of Ophelia Pike to a tee. As the woman turned sideways, Melanie noted the jutting bustle and pressed her lips together to keep from laughing out loud. She had heard Levi mention the
S
-shaped lady, but she hadn’t realized that lady and the mayor’s wife were one and the same.

Smoothing her apron, Melanie put on a bright smile. “Good afternoon. It’s Mrs. Pike, isn’t it? May I help you?”

Mrs. Pike stopped short and stared. Melanie kept smiling, enduring the woman’s inspection and feeling painfully certain she had been found wanting. Mrs. Pike cast another look around the store. “Where is Mr. Nelson?”

Melanie struggled to maintain her composure, feeling as though her smile had frozen permanently in place. “He took the day off to go fishing with his son.”

Mrs. Pike’s eyes widened, and she drew herself up like a pouter pigeon. “What can he be thinking of, lollygagging outdoors on a day the store is supposed to be open for business? I came in here intending to place a sizable order . . . if he’s able to fulfill it.” She sniffed. “And rewarding that scalawag of a son of his with a day at the creek? What that child needs is a firm hand applied to the seat of his britches. That’s the way to keep him in line.”

She swept the store with another icy glare and huffed her displeasure. “How does he expect to keep my patronage if he’s not here when I need him? I may just go down the street to Mr. O’Shea’s and give him my business instead.”

Melanie came around the fabric table and approached Mrs. Pike with her most helpful expression. “You won’t need to do that. The store is most definitely open for business, and I will be happy to place an order for you.”

A surge of excitement rippled through her. What a coup it would be if Mrs. Pike placed a sizable order. She could just picture Caleb’s expression when he came in to find that she’d not only managed to keep from incinerating the mercantile, but had been responsible for making a significant sale.

Mrs. Pike peered down her nose, obviously unimpressed by Melanie’s assurances. “Who might you be, and why would Mr. Nelson leave you in charge?”

Melanie held herself primly erect. “My name is Melanie Ross, and I am part owner of the Ross-Nelson Mercantile.” She placed a slight emphasis on the first part of the store’s name, in case Mrs. Pike missed the connection.

“Is that so?” The other woman’s nostrils flared slightly, and she hesitated, seeming at a loss for words—a situation Melanie suspected didn’t happen often. She glanced from Melanie toward the door, as if debating whether or not to leave.

Melanie held her ground and refrained from groveling. She didn’t believe the woman’s threat about patronizing Mr. O’Shea for one moment. Having seen the emporium with her own eyes, she knew for a fact they wouldn’t provide the kind of goods or service the mayor’s wife undoubtedly expected.

Mrs. Pike’s shoulders sagged a fraction. “Very well, then. I’ll give you a chance. I would like to order a new set of china, and I want it to be something special, not the heavy crockery you keep in stock here. Have you any patterns you can show me?”

It was all Melanie could do to contain her elation. “Let me show you the catalogs, and we can go over them together. I’m sure we’ll be able to find just the right pattern to suit your needs.”

They spent the next hour poring over the pages of one catalog after another, debating the relative merits of various china patterns. In the end, Mrs. Pike rapped the table with her knuckles. “I’ve made up my mind. I’ll take the Wedgwood Columbia.”

Melanie nodded her enthusiastic approval. “I think that’s a perfect choice.” She pulled out a sheet of paper and dipped her pen in the inkwell. “How many place settings would you like?”

Mrs. Pike pursed her lips as she considered. The bell jingled, and Melanie looked up to see Earl Slocum saunter inside. She smiled and gave him a little wave. “I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve finished here.”

The wizened man grinned. “No rush. I’ve got all day.”

Melanie turned back to Mrs. Pike.

“I’ll take eight. No, wait. Make it ten. In for a penny, in for a pound. Isn’t that right?”

Melanie offered a demure smile in return, when what she really wanted to do was let out a loud whoop. She wrote down the necessary information and blotted the completed order before putting it in an envelope. A slight flutter of doubt stirred. Should she ask for payment now, or wait until the order arrived? Caleb’s instructions hadn’t covered that eventuality. “Would you like me to put that on your tab?” She held her breath and waited for the answer.

“No, I intend to pay you today and have it settled. There isn’t any point in giving my husband a chance to change his mind.” Mrs. Pike chuckled at her little joke as she counted out the payment, then watched while Melanie addressed the envelope and affixed a stamp to it. “You’ll be sure that order goes out right away?”

Melanie carried the envelope over to the bag of outgoing mail and dropped it inside. “There. It will go out when the next mail delivery arrives. Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

“No, I’ve taken up enough of your time.” Mrs. Pike gathered up her reticule and rose to her feet. “I must say it has been very pleasant dealing with another woman on matters of the home. You made some excellent suggestions.”

Melanie felt her cheeks grow warm at the compliment.
“Thank you, Mrs. Pike. I hope to see you again soon.” She walked the other woman to the door, then joined Earl Slocum, who was studying a pair of work boots. “I can help you now, Mr. Slocum.”

Slocum hung the boots back on the wall. “To be honest, ma’am, I’m not looking for anything in particular. If you don’t mind, I’ll just putter around a bit.”

Melanie smiled at the grizzled man. “I don’t mind at all.” Relieved to have a moment to catch her breath, she straightened the catalogs, stacking them neatly. As she did so, a scrap of paper fluttered to the floor.

Even before she stooped to pick it up, she had a sick feeling in her stomach. Her queasiness was justified when she turned the paper over in her hand and saw the words written in an angry scrawl that had become all too familiar.

Get out of Cedar Ridge while you still can.

Melanie swallowed back the bile that rose to her throat when she read the brief message. Tearing the note into tiny shreds, she tossed the fragments into the dustbin. As she returned to the fabric table, a sudden thought struck her. Going back to the table where she’d stacked the catalogs, she selected one and flipped it open to one of the pages she and Mrs. Pike had studied. Fetching a fresh piece of paper, she dipped the pen in the inkwell and wrote out another order. She read over it once more, making sure she had copied all the information accurately, then addressed a second envelope, sealed her order inside, and dropped it in the mailbag.

Buoyed by a heady sense of accomplishment, she strolled
over to check on her customer. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can help you with?”

Slocum shook his head. “I really don’t need a thing. I come in every so often when I want to kill a little time.” His lips parted in a snaggletoothed grin. “I have to admit the scenery in here is a whole lot better than it used to be.”

Melanie laughed. “Thank you for the compliment. Since you’re looking for a way to fill your time, would you mind helping me with something?”

Earl Slocum’s chest swelled. “Why sure, ma’am. Anything you need.”

Melanie pulled two curtain rods from a barrel holding odds and ends of household goods and led him over to the fabric table, where she gathered up a length of the blue gingham material and began threading one rod through the long pocket she had made.

Slocum eyed her as she worked. “Curtains?”

Melanie nodded. She pulled the last of the gingham over the end of the rod, then picked up the other rod and did the same with the second length of fabric.

Earl Slocum whistled through his few remaining teeth. “That ought to pretty the place up even more.”

“That’s my plan. Would you mind carrying that stepladder over to the window for me and holding it while I put these rods up?”

He complied with alacrity, positioning the stepladder with care and offering his hand to steady Melanie as she stepped onto the bottom rung. When she moved up to the next rung, she heard a cracking sound and felt the wood beneath her foot give way.

With a yelp of surprise, she grabbed Slocum’s arm and
jumped down. The curtain rod dropped to the floor with a clatter.

Earl Slocum’s expression was one of pure amazement. “Are you all right, Miss Ross?”

“Something’s wrong with that stepladder.” When he didn’t respond, Melanie gave a nervous laugh, wondering if she sounded as foolish as she felt. “It seemed as if it was going to splinter right under me.”

Slocum knelt down and examined the offending step. “Well, what do you know? Looky here.” He pointed to a faint crack across the top of the second rung. “You’re right. It looks like it’s ready to split apart.”

“How odd.” Melanie leaned over and drew her eyebrows together. “Caleb and I both used it yesterday, and nothing seemed to be wrong then.”

“Well, it’s sure a problem now.” Slocum glanced around the store, his gaze lighting on the display of hardware. “If you don’t mind me taking one of those bed slats you have for sale and borrowing a couple of tools, I can have this fixed in a jiffy.”

Melanie hurried to fetch the saw, hammer, and nails he asked for. When she returned, she saw him staring at the bottom of the broken rung with his forehead screwed up in a puzzled frown. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“See that?” He ran his finger along a groove in the wood. “It looks like someone’s sawed it partway through. But that doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

Melanie peered at the spot he indicated. Sure enough, she saw what appeared to be a freshly sawn cut in the middle of the wooden rung. She stared. “You’re right. That doesn’t make any sense at all.”

She watched while he removed the damaged rung and made the necessary repairs, all the while wondering why anyone would do such a thing. The damage had to be intentional—and it was obviously aimed at causing trouble for her and Caleb, since they were the only ones who used the stepladder.

But who would want to cause them harm?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Slocum set the newly mended ladder on the floor and stepped on the second rung to test it.

“Good as new.” He grinned. “Ready to try again?”

Melanie pushed the unanswerable questions to the back of her mind and took his outstretched hand. To her relief, the stepladder held this time. “Thank you. That’s much better.” She gave him a smile. “Now would you mind handing me the curtains?”

Her helper scooped the curtains up from the floor and held one end of the rod while she placed the other in the bracket she’d nailed above the window earlier that day. Then he moved the stepladder to the other end of the window and repeated the process.

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