Carol Cox (13 page)

And she knew he knew it.

All the more reason to put his plan into action without delay.

“I’m telling you, fellows, she came out west planning to stay. She isn’t some frail little flower who’s afraid to get her hands dirty, or someone who’ll go running back east the moment a problem arises.”

Caleb leaned back against the counter and surveyed the group of men circled in front of him and hanging on his every word. It almost seemed like divine intervention in favor of his plan when a contingent of soldiers from Fort Verde sauntered into the store only moments after Melanie left on some errand. He’d been quick to take advantage of the situation and had been holding forth on the winning attributes of the charming Miss Ross for the past ten minutes.

A short, wiry man near the front of the group regarded Caleb thoughtfully. “I’ve seen her, and I’ll admit she’s a looker. But can she cook?”

A murmur of assent ran around the group, and Caleb fought to maintain his glee. They were interested, all right. Like dry tinder waiting for a spark. All they needed was a little encouragement. Surely at some point, one of the men in the surrounding area would catch Melanie’s notice and win her favor. His task was to provide her the widest field possible to choose from.

A barrel-chested officer scuffed his boot and slanted a skeptical look at Caleb. “If she’s as great a catch as you’re making her out to be, why are you so anxious to see her married off to someone else?”

The unexpected question made Caleb sputter. Before he
could frame a satisfactory answer, he heard a loud “Hsst!” from the man nearest the front window.

“She’s comin’ back!” he whispered. “She’s almost here!”

Caleb pushed himself away from the counter and leveled a stern gaze at the group of potential suitors. “Act natural, men. Women have sensitive feelings, and we don’t want to let on that we’ve been talking about her.”

He picked up the feather duster and began swiping at the nearest shelf while the men spread throughout the store. Several of them slipped out the back door, apparently not ready to begin a matrimonial pursuit just yet. Just as Melanie entered the front door, one of them turned and gave Caleb a broad wink.

Caleb smothered a chuckle as he continued to dust. He had set the wheels in motion. All he had to do now was stand back and let nature take its course.

M
elanie leaned over the basin, dipped her hands into the water, and splashed it on her face. Immediately, a series of goosebumps prickled up her arms and rippled across her shoulder blades. She hurried over to the bed, where she had laid out her dress, and pulled it over her head, fastening the buttons with chilled fingers.

Throwing a light shawl over her shoulders, she walked to the window, where she pushed the curtain to one side and leaned her arms on the sill, taking in the invigorating sight of the rolling hills and jagged cliffs silhouetted against the sunrise. And what a sunrise! Shades of scarlet, gold, pink, and orange blazed across the sky in a breathtaking array. Had she ever seen such brilliant hues back east?

“Thank you for this beautiful day.” The words escaped her lips on a sigh of pure delight. Ever since her walk around town, she felt an increasing sense of assurance that she’d made the right choice. She belonged in Cedar Ridge. Though the town lacked many of the advantages of city life, its untamed
quality brought with it a sense of connecting with the world around her in a way she had never experienced before. Like a storm-tossed wayfarer sailing into port, she felt she had found her home at last.

Melanie breathed deep of the crisp morning air. She had to agree with the words of the poet Browning—God indeed sat enthroned in His heaven, and all was right with her world.

Turning from the window, she retrieved her buttonhook from the top of the dresser and sat on the edge of her bed to fasten her shoes, reflecting on how quickly life could change. Only a short time ago, she assumed she would spend the rest of her days caring for other people’s children. Now she was establishing her place as a merchant in a growing community. And all through an incident that seemed at first like an utter disaster.

She smiled. How like the Lord to create beauty from the ashes of her despair and turn her heartache into rejoicing! Young Clarence Deaver’s accusations, intended to bring about her downfall, had instead opened the doorway to the opportunity of a lifetime, something like the way God had turned calamity into victory for Joseph in the Bible.

True, her presence in Cedar Ridge hadn’t caused any rejoicing on Caleb Nelson’s part, but he would come around in time. If God could help Joseph find favor in Pharaoh’s eyes, He could do the same for her where this stubborn man was concerned.

She crossed the room to the dresser and arranged her hair, smiling at her reflection in the mirror while she undid her night braid and picked up her hairbrush. Smiling came more easily to her these days. Once relieved of her position as the
Deavers’ governess it seemed as though a heavy burden had been lifted off her shoulders.

No more being caught in that lonely middle ground between gentry and servants, interacting with both worlds but a part of neither. She was a businesswoman, a merchant, on an equal footing with anyone in town. All she had to be concerned with now was building her own future. No more having to deal with overindulged children like Clarence Deaver Jr.

Her smile dimmed, remembering the boy’s perfidy and the way the poisonous lies had slipped so easily off his tongue without one whit of concern as to how those untruths would affect her . . . or anyone else. She drew the brush through her hair in long, smooth strokes. Whose life was he making miserable now? She pushed away the twinge of guilt that arose at the realization that by now someone else would have stepped into her place as the one the boy would use as his scapegoat.

That burden of guilt wasn’t hers to carry. With all her heart, she wished she could have made more of a difference in young Clarence’s life, but the damage had been done before she’d ever appeared on the scene. The years of excessive pampering that instilled an inflated sense of self-importance in the boy weren’t so easily overcome.

She jabbed a hairpin in with unnecessary vigor and winced when it grazed her scalp. If she ever had children of her own, she would see to it that they grew up to be civil, decent people who understood the value of honor and integrity. But that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon.

Her hands stilled for a moment. She already had another child in her life. And he was likely to be a part of her life for
the foreseeable future. She pushed the last hairpin in and checked her appearance in the mirror once more before making her way downstairs.

Levi could be an adorable child . . . when he wanted to be. She smiled, remembering the look on his face when he held up his “whopper” of a trout. At the same time, she was painfully aware that another side of his personality existed—the part that set the fire in the alley on her first day in Cedar Ridge.

She shuddered at the memory of him dropping his pet frog on her chest, then diving after it—and at the recollection of bolting after him in her nightdress and wrapper. Admittedly, she hadn’t been at her best that morning, either. She must have looked like some wild-eyed banshee following in his wake.

She went into the kitchen and put a kettle of water on to heat for her morning cup of tea. His father should have been keeping a closer watch on him, she told herself for the dozenth time. But although she wasn’t Levi’s governess, the two of them were destined to have an ongoing relationship for a number of years. Maybe she could exert a positive influence on the boy. It could be a perfect way to use the skills she had acquired as a governess.

As she measured out the loose tea leaves, her mood brightened. What God had done for Joseph also blessed those around him. Maybe part of the reason He had guided her to this situation was to have her help mold Levi’s behavior. She poured the boiling water over the tea leaves, determined to begin right away. She could talk to Levi, get to know him better.

The more she thought about it, the more her excitement grew. If she could draw the boy out, it would help her learn
which facet of Levi’s personality reflected his true nature. And once she had that information, she would be better equipped to know how to proceed. With a little influence of the right sort, he could grow into a delightful young man, one other people would enjoy having around.

Leaving her tea to steep, she donned her apron and went into the storeroom for the broom. As she walked past the shelf where the ornate music box stood, she paused for a moment to trail her finger along the delicate tracery of multicolored wood. Such a shame that Caleb insisted on keeping it hidden away. Someday she would try again to persuade him to let her play it. Maybe hearing its music pour forth would encourage him to set it out on display, where it could be enjoyed—and possibly purchased—by their customers.

She carried the broom to the rear door of the mercantile, ready to begin her workday by sweeping the back stoop. She enjoyed the early morning chore, which gave her a chance to have a few quiet moments outdoors before the day’s busyness set in.

She pulled open the back door, turning her face up to greet the morning sun. Her foot struck an object as she stepped out, and she caught hold of the doorframe to keep from falling. She looked down to see what she had tripped over and frowned. Why would anyone leave a bundle of clothes in back of the mercantile?

On second glance, she realized the clothes were still occupied. A man dressed in a canvas duster lay crumpled at her feet. Neat black trousers extended past the hem of the duster, ending in a pair of feet encased in highly polished black shoes.

Her mind whirled as she tried to make sense of what she
was seeing. Why was someone lying on the back stoop? Maybe he was a traveler who had spent too much time in the nearby saloon and only managed to stagger to the stoop before passing out to sleep off the results of his bender. That notion was dispelled the moment she noticed the pool of blood that had accumulated beneath the man’s head.

Melanie swayed and clutched at the doorframe with both hands. The broom clattered to the boards below, and a scream tore from her throat.

The piercing scream stopped Caleb in his tracks. It was a woman’s voice—Melanie’s. And this was no startled shriek, like the one she’d let out when she met Freddie. This scream held a note of fear, of danger.

“Wait here.” He tossed the curt order to Levi as he sprinted toward the store’s back entrance, a thousand thoughts whirling through his mind. Had Melanie fallen or injured herself somehow? Had someone broken in and was even now trying to rob the store?

Late spring was the time for rattlesnakes to be awakening from their winter’s hibernation. Maybe she’d discovered one when she came out to sweep the back stoop. The possibility made him put on a burst of speed, wishing fervently that his view of the stoop wasn’t blocked by the wing of the building that jutted out into the alley.

He rounded the corner at a dead run, skidding to a halt when he saw Melanie on the stoop with both hands pressed over her mouth, her wide eyes staring down at the motionless body of a man at her feet.

Caleb’s eyes bulged at the sight. He tore his focus away
from the man’s body and looked back up at Melanie. “Who is he?”

She shook her head and lowered her hands, like one in a daze. Caleb noticed her fingers were trembling. “I don’t know,” she said. “I came out to sweep and found him . . . like that.”

Caleb stepped forward. “Is he dead?”

Her head dipped in a tiny nod. “I’m pretty sure he is. Look.” She pointed with a shaking finger, and Caleb saw the puddle of blood.

His bewilderment grew. “Did he fall?” He cast a glance upward toward the store’s roof. “Did something drop on him?” Try as he might, he couldn’t fathom what might have happened. His eyes took in the scene before him, but his mind refused to make sense of it. The whole situation seemed absurd—dead men didn’t just show up on a person’s doorstep.

He knelt beside the stranger, ready to turn him over so he could get a better look at his face. Even before he took hold of the shoulders, he felt sure Melanie was right. That gray pallor didn’t belong to the living. His instinct was confirmed when he rolled the body stiffly to one side and got a glimpse of the back of the man’s head.

Caleb retched and swallowed hard to keep his breakfast from coming back up. That dent in the man’s skull hadn’t been made by any mere fall. He pulled his hands away, and the body rolled back into place of its own accord.

Feet pounded along the alley, and Micah Rawlins, owner of the livery stable, dashed up, panting. “What’s going on?” he asked. “I was feeding the horses and I heard someone scream.”

Caleb got to his feet, still staring at the body of the stranger.
Micah followed his gaze, and Caleb heard his sudden intake of breath.

Rawlins pursed his lips and let out a low whistle. “You want me to go fetch Doc?”

Caleb shook his head. “He’s beyond any help a doctor can give him.”

Micah snorted. “Probably just as well. I spent a little time in the Silver Moon last night, and Doc came in while I was there. He was already pretty well in his cups and didn’t look like he planned on slowing down anytime soon.”

Caleb’s gaze returned to the massive wound on the back of the stranger’s head, and he swallowed again. “If you want to go get someone, better make it the marshal.”

Melanie stood pressed against the back wall of the mercantile, watching Marshal Hooper finish his examination of the dead man. The initial shock of discovery had begun to wear off, and her mind was beginning to function more clearly again.