Carol Cox (21 page)

A low chuckle rumbled from Will’s chest. “And that is my advantage. Caleb is attracted to you, but he hasn’t admitted it to himself yet. I want to get my bid in before he wakes up.”

They reached the edge of town only moments before the first drops of rain began to fall. Will pulled the buggy up in front of the mercantile, then helped Melanie down and escorted her to the front door. “It doesn’t seem very gentlemanly of me to leave in such a rush, but I need to hurry back to my ranch.” He turned his face up to scan the sky again. “It may be only a sprinkle now, but from the looks of things, it’ll be coming down in buckets before I get home.”

He rested his hands lightly on Melanie’s shoulders. “Thank you for spending the day with me. I hope we can do this again sometime soon.”

Melanie watched him drive away before she entered the store, where Caleb was hunched over a stack of papers spread
out on the counter. At the sound of the bell, he looked up long enough to see that it was her, then bent his head down again.

Melanie took off her shawl and shook off the raindrops. “I take it you weren’t overwhelmed with customers in my absence?”

Caleb grimaced and ran one hand through his hair. “This is the quietest day we’ve had since I came here. There have been plenty of people out and about on the street, but none of them have stopped in.” He gave Melanie a sharp look as she walked past him toward the back room. “Did you have a nice time?”

“Very nice, thank you,” she called back over her shoulder as she replaced her shawl on its hook. She returned to the mercantile and smiled at him. “I had heard about the ruins, but they’re very different than what I’d expected.”

A shadow at the window caught Melanie’s attention, and she looked over to see two women peering inside, studying the display of china. She waited until they looked up, then she smiled and waved. The women only frowned, nudged one another, and hurried off down the boardwalk.

Mystified, she turned to Caleb, who merely shrugged. “See what I mean? It’s been like that all day.”

M
elanie stood in the open doorway of the mercantile, looking out onto Lincoln Street. At the far end of the road, she could see a hum of activity as the other businesses in town began to shut down for the day. A handful of customers walked out of O’Shea’s Emporium.

A moment later, Mr. O’Shea himself came out to carry some merchandise back inside, ready to close up shop for the evening. Signs boasting rock-bottom prices on staple items festooned his windows, and Melanie had watched a steady stream of shoppers going in and out of the emporium.

She made a face. More customers were leaving O’Shea’s establishment than she and Caleb had seen at the mercantile all day. Business had picked up a little over the day she’d gone on her picnic with Will, but it hadn’t approached the level they would normally expect for a Friday.

Without shifting her position, she looked over her shoulder at Caleb, who stood flicking a feather duster over already spotless shelves. “Do you want me to go ahead and put the
Closed
sign out?”

“No, we’ll stay open until the usual time. You never know, someone might come in at the last minute. We can’t afford to lose any business.”

Certainly not after the bleak showing we had today.
Melanie rubbed her hands along her arms, then marched out to the boardwalk to pick up a keg holding an assortment of brooms. She carried it inside and set it down with a thump.

She went back for a crate filled with scrub brushes and had just reached the doorway when she heard the echo of bootheels on the boardwalk and saw Dooley Hatcher approaching. She smiled and propped the door open for him with her hip. “Hello, Dooley. We were just about to close, but we’ll be happy to stay open for you.”

To her astonishment, he ducked his head like a turtle pulling into its shell and hurried past without speaking.

Melanie stared in disbelief. What had gotten into him? She stepped inside and let the door swing shut behind her. Was it because of Caleb’s moratorium on proposals, or their altercation the other day? No, that couldn’t be it. Dooley and his brother had both been in the store since then, seeming to hold no grudge. Today, though, Dooley had acted as if he didn’t even know her—the same way nearly everyone else in town had been acting.

She looked at Caleb, seeing by his expression that he’d noticed what had happened. Melanie spread her hands. “Might we have done something to offend the entire town?”

Caleb shrugged. “You’d think so from the way people are acting, but for the life of me, I can’t think what it could be.”

She didn’t know, either, but it must have been something awful for them to be shunned by one of the area’s most eccentric characters.

She busied herself drawing the curtains behind the window displays while the mantel clock ticked off the final minutes until closing time. The moment the minute hand reached the twelve, she set the
Closed
sign in the window and locked the door.

Levi crawled out of his fort. “I’m hungry, Papa.”

Caleb laid the feather duster on the counter. “Me too. Let’s go home and I’ll fix some supper.”

“Would you like to stay and eat with me?” The words popped out of Melanie’s mouth before she realized she was going to say them.

Levi’s face brightened. “Could we, Papa? Whatever she’s cooking smells really good. That’s what’s making me hungry.”

Caleb sniffed the air appreciatively, then grinned at his son. “It does indeed, but we don’t want to be a bother.” He raised one eyebrow and looked at Melanie. “Are you sure you have enough to feed all three of us?”

“There’s plenty,” she assured them. More than enough, she told herself. With time hanging heavy on her hands that afternoon, she had kept herself occupied by puttering in the kitchen, slicing and dicing enough carrots, potatoes, onions, and beef to make enough stew to feed half a dozen hungry people.

“I’ve made far too much for me to eat by myself. You’d be doing me a favor. I could even whip up some biscuits, if you’d like.”

A broad smile stretched Caleb’s lips at the mention of biscuits. He winked at Levi. “Say no more. If a couple of hungry men are what you need, we’d be glad to help you out.”

While the biscuits baked, Melanie pulled three bowls from the cupboard in the small kitchen and ladled a hearty portion of the rich stew into each one. Where would they all sit? She had been in the habit of carrying her food up to her room and eating at the chair by the window, but that wouldn’t be an option tonight. No matter—they would manage somehow. Perhaps they could improvise stools and eat perched at the counter.

She closed her eyes and inhaled the mingled aromas of beef stew, biscuits, and brewing coffee. She hoped Caleb and Levi were as hungry as they claimed. Even if their appetites lagged, the savory smells coming from the kitchen ought to help stir them up.

She opened the oven door and pulled out a pan of flaky golden biscuits. It would be a simple meal but a pleasant one, a way to boost their spirits after such a discouraging day.

Melanie pulled off her apron and hung it on the nail by the kitchen door, then smoothed her hair back with both hands and patted it into place, hoping she looked presentable for their impromptu dinner party.

She loaded the bowls of stew and mugs of steaming coffee onto a tray and carried it out into the store. When she reached the doorway, she stopped short, and a delighted smile spread across her face. While she had been busy in the kitchen, Caleb and Levi had moved several of her display tables out of the way to clear a cozy space between the potbellied stove and the fabric shelves. A makeshift table—which on closer inspection proved to be a door borrowed from their stock of building supplies and balanced atop two small barrels—was draped with a tablecloth that bore a suspicious resemblance to a canvas ground cloth.

Two chairs that usually sat out on the boardwalk in front
of the mercantile flanked the table, along with the stepladder, which she assumed would serve as Levi’s seat for the evening. Caleb and Levi stood on the far side of the table. Caleb’s hand rested on Levi’s shoulder, and both of them wore identical expressions of boyish pride. Caleb had even started a fire in the potbellied stove. Melanie could hear the firewood sputter and crackle as it burned, sending tendrils of warmth out into the room.

“What a transformation! It’s almost like having a proper dining room.” She set the bowls and mugs on the table and went back to the kitchen for the biscuits. When she returned, Caleb helped her into her seat with a flourish. Melanie noticed Levi eyeing the coffee and frowned. “Oh dear. Let me go get you a glass of water.”

Caleb pushed his chair back. “Wait, I have an idea.” He went over to one of the shelves and came back with a bottle of ginger ale. Levi’s eyes glowed as he watched his father open the bottle and set it in front of him. Caleb smiled at the boy’s excitement. “Enjoy it, son. It’s a special treat for a special occasion.”

They bowed their heads while Caleb asked the blessing on their meal. The moment the prayer ended, Levi scooped up a spoonful of stew and popped it into his mouth. “Mmm . . . this is good!”

Caleb tilted his head. “Are you sure?”

Melanie blinked. He’d seemed eager enough to sample her cooking earlier. Had something put him off? She watched him take a taste and saw his eyes widen in feigned surprise.

“Mmm . . . you’re right!” He grinned at Levi and gave Melanie a conspiratorial wink. The flush that crept up her neck at his smile warmed her more than the woodstove.

They ate their meal with few words, and Melanie was glad she didn’t feel pressured to keep a conversation going. The silence was a comfortable one, giving her a feeling of companionship she’d long gone without.

Levi started yawning over his second bowl of stew and asked if he could be excused. He wandered over to the basket where he kept his soldiers and started setting up a battle between two troops of them. Before long, he lay stretched out on the floor beside his toys. Moments later, he was sound asleep.

Caleb scooted his chair back and stretched his arms wide. “I guess I’d better go put a blanket over him. . . .” He glanced over at Melanie. “Unless you’d rather I just take him home now.”

“No, please stay. I’m enjoying the visit.”

Caleb lifted Levi so Melanie could spread a blanket on the floor, then he laid the boy back down again and wrapped the other side of the blanket over his sleeping son. The way the little boy’s eyelashes fanned across his cheeks and the sounds of his steady breathing tugged at Melanie’s heart.

She and Caleb settled back in their chairs and listened to the fire crackle. With Caleb looking as comfortable and relaxed as she’d ever seen him, leaning back with his feet stretched out toward the potbellied stove, and Levi asleep near their feet, the scene took on a homey atmosphere . . . almost as if they were a family.

The thought caught her up short. Maybe she was getting
too
comfortable. She straightened in her chair, determined to corral her wayward thoughts and bring them back to safer topics.

She took a sip of her coffee, then set the cup down on the improvised table. “I’ve been meaning to discuss something
with you, and after today’s dearth of customers, this seems like a good time to do it. I’ve been thinking of some new ways we could advertise—”

Caleb raised his hand, cutting her off. “Let’s not spoil the evening.” He turned his head slightly and gave her a wry grin, adding, “We can always get back to arguing tomorrow. For now, let’s relax and— Wait a minute. I know just the thing.”

He rose and went over to one of the shelves and returned with the music box in his hands. After moving their bowls aside to clear a space in the middle of the table, he wound the key and set the box down with care. Then he lifted the lid and slid the lever inside to the right. The mechanism whirred, then the cylinder began to rotate and a tinkling melody filled the air.

Melanie’s heart quickened when she recognized the tune. “‘Liebestraum.’ That was one of my grandmother’s favorite pieces. She used to play it on her piano when I was a little girl.” She leaned her head against the back of the chair and let the music sweep her away, back to a time when she felt safe . . . protected . . . loved.

Closing her eyes, she could envision the way she used to bob and pirouette to the music while her grandmother’s fingers moved nimbly across the ivory keys. When she opened her eyes again, she saw a glimmer of amusement in Caleb’s eyes and realized she had been swaying in her chair, as though dancing again in her grandparents’ parlor.

Her cheeks flamed when she thought how foolish she must have appeared. But Caleb didn’t seem put off in the least. Instead, he stretched out his hand and bowed. “Would you care to dance?”

“Here? Now?” She studied his face. Was he making fun of
her? His smile was still in place, but it was a kind, inviting smile, not a mocking one. Wordlessly, she let him help her to her feet and placed her left hand on his shoulder.

His steps were light and sure as he waltzed her around the small open area of their “dining room.” The touch of his fingers on hers and the warmth of his hand at her waist sent a tingle from her neck to her toes. She stared into his eyes, wondering if he felt it, as well.

Their feet glided across the floor in unison with the music, slowing as the mechanism wound down and coming to a rest as the last notes faded away. She could feel Caleb’s pulse under her fingertips, matching the beat of her own heart. They stood together in the silence—not moving, not speaking, just staring into each other’s eyes.

Caleb licked his lips and tilted his head down. “Melanie?” His voice sounded husky in the stillness.

“Yes?”

He caught his breath, and she heard him swallow.

“I think it’s time for Levi and me to go home.”