Carol Cox (16 page)

She leaned the broom back against the counter and tottered over to the front door. Snapping the lock in place, she reached for the
Closed
sign. It was still a little early for the store to close, but she didn’t care. Not today. Not after discovering the callous scheme Caleb Nelson had hatched. She started toward the kitchen to brew herself a pot of chamomile tea. With any luck, she could fall into a dreamless sleep. She had already lived through one nightmare . . . and in broad daylight.

“Are you all right, dearie?”

Melanie started and whirled around to see Mrs. Fetterman still standing where Melanie had left her before beginning her onslaught on Caleb. She pressed her lips together to stifle
a moan. Another witness to her humiliating outburst. The tears she had managed to hold back now flowed in earnest.

Mrs. Fetterman pattered across the floor and pressed a handkerchief into Melanie’s hand. “There, now. You needn’t fret like that. Every once in a while, a man needs something to wake him up, and today was one of those times for Caleb. You’ll see, it’ll all blow over and be forgotten in no time.”

“Forgotten?” Melanie choked back a sob. “How could anyone forget what happened after seeing the way I made a total idiot of myself? He already despises me. This is just going to make it worse.”

To Melanie’s astonishment, Mrs. Fetterman only chuckled. “Stuff and nonsense. Right now, you feel like you’ve been caught up in a whirlwind, but these things have a way of working themselves out. You’ll see.” She held up the bottle of Dr. White’s Dandelion Alterative. “I think I’ll take this with me, if you don’t mind putting it on my tab.”

“I’d be glad to.” Melanie showed the older woman to the door, unlocked it, and relocked it behind her, then slumped against it. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could erase the incidents of the past half hour from her memory. It was bad enough to be the target for the attentions of every available man in the area, but to find out Caleb had orchestrated it all in the hope of driving her off was simply unbearable.

Melanie strode across to the shelves of patent remedies and picked up a bottle of Scott’s Nerv-O-Sol. Maybe she needed a dose of the tonic even more than chamomile tea.

C
aleb ushered Levi up onto the back stoop of the mercantile, both surprised and relieved when he didn’t encounter Melanie outside sweeping as usual. He hadn’t been sure what to expect after the way she’d chased him off the day before. Had she calmed down yet, or was she ready to pick up again where she left off?

He looked down, frowning when he saw the thin layer of dust on the boards. Sweeping the stoop was always her first chore of the morning, but apparently she hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

And what did that mean? Was she planning to give him the silent treatment? Was she upstairs packing, ready to give up and go home?

Or was she lurking just behind that closed door, armed with the broom . . . or an even more substantial weapon this time?

Motioning Levi to stand back, he gripped the knob gently, intending to open the door as quietly as he could. He looked down in surprise when the knob refused to turn. He tightened his grip and wiggled the knob back and forth.

Locked.
His brow furrowed. What did that mean? Melanie had always unlocked the door by the time he and Levi arrived.

Levi stepped closer. “Is Miss Ross still mad at you, Papa?”

Caleb gritted his teeth and fished in his vest pocket for his key. He had been gentleman enough to leave yesterday when Melanie had run him off the premises like a whipped dog. The woman had obviously been overwrought, unable to deal with things in a rational manner. Thinking back to what Nehemiah Curtis had said, though—plus the fact that she had tumbled onto the scheme Caleb had been promoting—he had to admit there might have been some justification for her behavior.

He unlocked the door and shoved it open, ready for a confrontation, but Melanie wasn’t there to meet him, only an empty silence.

And as far as he could see, she hadn’t even come downstairs that morning. Everything looked just as it had when he’d scurried out the day before. Maybe his theory was right and she was making preparations to leave. His brief sense of elation was cut short when another thought struck him. Not that long ago, a murder had occurred on their back steps. Had some harm befallen Melanie during the night?

He put his hand on Levi’s shoulder. “Stay here, right by the door.” Taking a few steps inside, he scanned the mercantile, but there was no sign of her. Not sure whether to feel relieved or concerned, he raised his voice. “Melanie, are you here?”

Again there was no answer, only the quiet. With his heart in his throat, Caleb bounded toward the stairs, calling her name again. Just as he cleared the top step, the door to her bedroom opened and Melanie emerged, tightening her wrapper around her waist.

“Are you all right?” Caleb looked her up and down. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with her, apart from the dark circles under her eyes and a tightness at the corners of her mouth. “I thought . . . I was afraid . . .” He took a quick step back, suddenly aware of her proximity and the fact that she was still in her nightclothes.

Melanie didn’t seem to notice. She lifted one hand and touched the tips of her fingers to her forehead. “Would you mind if I stayed upstairs this morning? I’m not feeling quite like myself today.”

“Of course.” Caleb moved down one step. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well. Is there anything I can bring you?”

She shook her head, then winced. “No, thank you,” she said in a faint voice. “I believe I’ll just go lie down for a while.” Without waiting for a reply, she turned and disappeared into her bedroom.

Caleb trotted back down the stairs, where Levi waited for him with an anxious expression. “Did she try to hit you again?”

“Not at all. She simply isn’t feeling well. It looks like it’s just the two of us manning the store this morning.” He grinned and tousled the boy’s hair. “Why don’t you grab the extra broom and help me by sweeping off the back stoop while I take care of the boardwalk out front. We’ll need to hurry if we’re going to open on time.”

The morning sped by with a steady stream of customers, most of whom inquired about Melanie’s whereabouts. With every conversation, Caleb became increasingly aware how much of a fixture she had already become in the mercantile. All the more reason he needed to break her connection with the store before it became too strong.

At midmorning, Rafe Sutton walked through the door and strode up to the counter. “My wagon’s out back in the alley. I’ve got a delivery for you. Where do you want me to put it?”

Caleb frowned. “Are you sure it’s for me? I wasn’t expecting any orders.”

Rafe moved the ever-present wad of chewing tobacco from his right cheek to his left. “It’s for that pretty partner of yours. Her name is lettered on top of the crate, right above where it says
Ross-Nelson Mercantile: Fragile.
”

“Fragile?” Caleb stared at the freighter. Ophelia Pike’s china had arrived several days before.
What could this be?

A memory stirred, and he felt the muscles in his neck tense. It must be the china Melanie had ordered to put on display. His lips thinned, but he tried not to let his anger show. It wasn’t Rafe’s fault, after all. He jerked his head toward the doorway behind the counter. “Put it in the storeroom, if you would.”

Rafe nodded and moved toward the back door. He paused with his hand on the latch, looked around the store, and turned back to Caleb. “Seems funny not to see Miss Ross around today. That smile of hers sure brightens up the place.”

Caleb managed a weak smile in return.

Looking at the line of customers awaiting his attention, he had to admit Rafe wasn’t the only one who missed Melanie’s presence. In many ways, she had proven to be more a help than a hindrance. Under different circumstances, he might even have enjoyed her company.

By lunchtime, he still hadn’t heard a peep from upstairs, not even a creak of the floorboards to indicate she had moved around at all. Had he missed hearing her while he’d been occupied with customers, or was she still abed? And if that was the case, did she merely have a headache, or was she truly ill?

Even though he didn’t appreciate most of her contributions when it came to running the store, there was no question that she was a hard worker. Maybe she had pushed herself to the point of utter exhaustion. After all, she said she wasn’t feeling like herself.

Caleb grunted. She certainly hadn’t acted like herself when she came after him with that broom yesterday. The shadow of concern that had been hovering over him since he’d discovered her uncharacteristic absence that morning deepened. If it turned out that she was sick due to exhaustion, how much of that was his fault? His addlebrained scheme to inundate her with proposals would only have added to the strain she already carried.

He rubbed the tight muscles at the back of his neck. If the truth be told, he owed her an apology. Maybe a thoughtful gesture extended as an olive branch would show his goodwill and help to make amends. Going into the kitchen, he put the water on to brew a pot of tea. While he waited, he took out the ham sandwich he’d brought for his own lunch and arranged it on a tray, then carried the peace offering upstairs. He stopped at the top step, surprised to find Melanie kneeling beside an open trunk under the window, pressing an armful of fabric to her face.

“Oh, you’re up.”

Melanie turned around at the sound of his voice. When she lowered her hands, Caleb saw she was holding a man’s woolen coat.

She followed his gaze and gave an embarrassed laugh. “It belonged to my cousin George. I was just remembering the way he always smelled of pipe tobacco and licorice. There’s still a trace of it on his coat.” She folded the garment and
set it aside atop a stack of clothing already piled next to the trunk.

Caleb glanced down at the tray in his hands. “I thought you might be hungry.”

A soft smile brightened her face. “How thoughtful. Would you mind setting it over there?” She indicated a small table nearby. “I’ll be ready to take a break in a moment. I haven’t had a chance to go through George’s things, and I suddenly felt the need to reconnect with him a bit, so I thought I’d make the most of this opportunity. I hope you don’t mind.”

Caleb set the tray down and turned back to her. “No, I don’t mind at all. I understand what it’s like to lose someone you love.”

“Your uncle Alvin?”

Caleb cleared his throat and made himself answer truthfully. “Yes . . . him too.”

A frown appeared between her brows, replaced by a look of awareness. “Your wife?”

Caleb nodded. He walked back to the head of the stairs and sat down on the top step. “Her name was Corinna, and we’d been married for four years. Levi was three at the time, and we were so excited about the new baby that was due.”

He swallowed past a sudden obstruction in his throat. Other than Uncle Alvin, he hadn’t spoken to anyone about Corinna since he’d arrived in Arizona. “But there were complications. The baby—our little girl—only lived a few minutes, and Corinna died within the hour.”

He glanced at Melanie, surprised and oddly touched when he saw tears brimming in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “That must have been terribly difficult for you.”

“It was.” Caleb took a deep breath. “If it wasn’t for the Lord and Levi, I don’t think I could have kept on going. My mother took care of him while I worked the farm, but then she died about a year ago, and things got even harder. When Uncle Alvin wrote and asked me to come out here and help him, it seemed like an answer to prayer. I sold our farm in Missouri, and Levi and I headed west.”

Melanie looked down at her hands, clasped in her lap. “That’s why this store is so important to you.”

“It’s our future,” he said simply. He planted his hands on his knees and pushed himself to his feet. “And I guess I’d better get back to tending it.”

Melanie looked up at him. “Do you need me to come down and help with anything? I can finish sorting through the things in this trunk another time.”

Caleb smiled his thanks. “That’s all right. Take your time. I can manage for a while.” He decided not to mention how much he could have used her help during his busy morning. They had reached a truce of sorts. There was no point in stirring up more animosity. Leaving Melanie to her rummaging, he went back downstairs and set up Levi’s lunch, then fixed some cheese and crackers for himself. He was just clearing away the remains of their meal when the bell jingled, and the door swung open to admit Marshal Hooper.

“Good afternoon.” Dusting the cracker crumbs off his hands, Caleb stepped forward to greet the lawman. “What can I help you with today?”

The marshal closed the door behind him and stepped farther inside the store. “I’m not looking to buy anything today, Caleb. I’m here on official business.” He leaned against the counter and hooked his thumb under his gun belt. “I’m trying
to learn more about that fellow who got his head bashed in on your porch.”

Caleb flinched at the reminder of the grisly discovery. He shook his head and rested both arms on the counter. “I don’t know that I can help you. As I told you then, I never saw him before.”

“You can’t think of any reason he would have been outside your store in the dead of night?”

“Not a single one. There isn’t any explanation I can think of. It’s as much of a puzzle to me as it is to you.”

The marshal nodded thoughtfully, as if filing Caleb’s words away in his mind for future reference. “From the quality of his clothes, it’s evident that he was probably a man of good standing. Wherever he came from, I expect there’s at least someone back there who’s wondering where he is.”

Caleb tapped his fingers on the counter. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

“The only connection I can find at all is that someone left a horse in the livery stable the night before the body was discovered. But Micah was over in the saloon at the time, so he didn’t see who left the horse, and there was nothing to indicate what the man’s name was or where he came from or why he was in Cedar Ridge. Nobody in town seems to know anything about him . . . but he was found here on your steps.”

The marshal leaned over the counter and peered into Caleb’s face. “I can’t help but feel that there’s some kind of tie-in here, but I don’t know what it is. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

Caleb straightened and leaned away from the intensity of the lawman’s gaze. “This is the West, after all. It isn’t always a safe place to be.”

“True, but this isn’t just some drunken brawl ending in a shootout. This is outright murder. A murder that happened right under my nose, which is something I take personally. It might have been done by someone passing through—that seems to be the prevailing theory around town—but it might just as well be someone who lives here. And if the murderer is still around, I intend to see justice done.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Melanie appeared at the bottom of the stairs, carrying a sheet of paper in one hand.

Caleb turned, surprised to see her looking much more refreshed than when he’d left her a few minutes previously.

She walked over to join them at the counter. “Whoever that poor man was, the people who cared about him deserve to be notified.”

The marshal squinted at her. “Did he look familiar to you? He had to have some reason for coming to your store.”