“I’m sorry, Pete,” she said with a sniffle. “I don’t have any sugar for you. Apparently, the only one with any sugar in this Gulch is my sister.”
The horse stomped its foot and sighed as if he understood her bitter words.
“I do think we have some carrots inside though. Would you like a carrot?”
Pete nudged her shoulder with his nose and made her smile.
“All right. I’ll go get you a carrot, boy.”
After taking the three steps to the door, Melissa opened it and walked in. The room was refreshingly cool despite the heat of the day, and she gave her eyes a moment to adjust. She could hear her sister’s giggles from the back counter. Her father’s voice could also be heard asking questions of the man she’d just met outside.
Wandering over to one of the back walls, she examined the baskets of produce. Upon finding the bushel of carrots, she grabbed a large one and clutched it to her chest as she turned toward the voices. Maybe Marcus would let her take care of his horse. If she had to listen to her sister’s shameless flirtations all day, she’d go insane.
“Excuse me, Mr. McCaide?” she called out timidly. Her father smiled, his bald head shining with perspiration as he pushed his round spectacles further up on his nose. He was handsome for an older man, or so her mother had said before she’d passed away a few years back. He was lean and fit, but his aching joints sometimes got the better of him. Having Marcus work in the store would be a blessing indeed.
Shirley stood close to Marcus, almost rubbing her shoulder against his. Melissa knew she did that on purpose to make sure Marcus could smell her rose-water perfume. With a sigh, Melissa glanced up at his handsome face.
From this angle, she could see his eyes were a light shade of brown if not gold in color, and she desperately wanted to look deeply into them. But his gaze was so intense it seemed to look right through her. She glanced away, her cheeks on fire as she stared at the floor clutching the carrot with whitened knuckles.
“Hey there, Lissa,” Marcus drawled as he took off his hat and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “I was just wondering where you’d gone off to.”
Melissa closed her eyes and bit her lip, knowing all too well that he’d thought no such thing. Not when his gaze softened as it rested on Shirley every now and again.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, sir,” she began, looking at the floor as if it were the most important thing in the world, “but I was wondering if you might want me to take your horse to the livery stable. Maybe I could give him this carrot.”
“Oh, you don’t have to, ma’am,” Marcus replied. “I was planning on doing that myself after I chat with your pa.”
“Well, it’s very hot outside, sir, and it’s no problem at all. I… I wouldn’t mind.”
There was a long silence before Shirley decided to chime in. “Don’t worry about her, Mr. McCaide. Our Lissa loves to get dirty with the horses in the stables.”
Melissa ground her teeth together at that comment from her sister, regardless of its truth. When said that way, it didn’t paint her in a very pretty light. Shirley’s words just confirmed in Melissa’s mind that Marcus would never look twice at her.
“All right then,” he said. “Go on ahead. I’m sure Pete’ll love the attention.”
Chancing a glance at him, Melissa noticed Marcus was giving her a teasing grin. She was sure thoughts of soiled dresses and manure-smelling perfume were drifting through his head at that moment, and Shirley’s look of jest told her that if he wasn’t thinking it,
she
certainly was.
Their father stood behind them, shaking his head in pity when Melissa glanced at him. He seemed to be the only one in the Gulch who could ever read her moods. Nodding at Marcus, she turned and slipped out of the room as quietly as she could. Tucking the carrot into the pocket of her apron, she untied Pete’s reins and led him down the street.
“I like you, Pete,” she said as she scratched him under his forelock.
He tossed his head a few times but followed her without complaint to the livery stable.
“Butch!” she called out through the open double-doors. “Butch, are you here?”
“That you, Lissa?” Butch’s gravelly voice answered as he mopped his brow with a handkerchief and exited one of the stalls. A stained white shirt clung to his rotund body as the top half of his overalls hung useless at his waist. Thinning black hair was slicked back from his face that bore a wide smile as usual. Butch always allowed Melissa to help him take care of the horses he housed.
“Yes it is,” she said with a grin. “I have Pete here, a new horse that belongs to Mr. Marcus McCaide. He’d like to reserve a stall.”
“Sure, sure. I have one ready right down this way.” Leading her down the corridor of the stables, Butch indicated an open and empty stall. “Here you go. You gonna rub him down, or should I?”
“I’ll do it.”
“All right. I reckon you might know how better than I do.”
Smiling, Melissa led the black horse into the stall and closed the sliding door behind her. “Thank you, Butch.”
“Don’t mention it.” He chuckled as he turned to walk back to his work.
After unbuckling Pete’s bridle, Melissa took it off and hung it from a nail on the wall. With his bridle gone, she pulled out the carrot and let him munch on it.
“Told you I’d bring you a carrot,” she whispered, amazed at how beautiful the creature was. “You’re just as good-looking as your owner, you know that, Pete?”
Smiling to herself, she leaned down to unbuckle the girth strap and pulled the saddle off his back. She managed to lower it gently into the corner despite its weight. Taking a rag from another nail, she proceeded to rub down the horse, making sure not an inch of him went untouched.
The horse seemed to sigh in contentment. After his rubdown, Melissa grabbed the curry comb and brushed his coat while whispering soothing words. His ears pricked back and forth as his eyes closed, and she had to grin at that.
“Looks like you’re spoiling him,” a familiar voice said from behind her.
Whipping around, she saw Marcus leaning against the doorframe of the stall, regarding her with a raised brow. How long had he been standing there?
“I love horses,” she confessed, turning away to hide her sudden blush. He was just too handsome by half, propped on his shoulder with his arms crossed like that. “Did you get the job?”
“Indeed I did. You have a right nice family.”
Her comb stopped in mid-stroke. Closing her eyes with disappointment, she sighed at the reminder of her sister and resumed her brushes with vigor. “Yes, my father is a wonderful man. Very nice. Very compassionate.”
“And your sister is…”
“Very beautiful, I know.” She spat before she could stop it.
“I was going to say charming.”
“Charming, beautiful, it’s all the same with Shirley.”
“Do I detect some hostility?” he teased.
“I’d rather not talk about it, Mr. McCaide.”
After a long pause, he drawled, “Please, the name’s Marcus.”
“All right. Marcus.” A few more moments of silence passed. “Pete loved his carrot.”
“I’ll bet he did. He’s been eating nothing but yellowed grass recently. This is the first town I’ve been to in quite awhile.”
Pulling away from the horse, Melissa replaced the comb on the wall and turned to go. She needed to leave. Being in this man’s presence did nothing for her state of mind. Her hands were already shaking as she faced him in the doorway, but she couldn’t bring herself to look any higher than his boots. He made no move to get out of the way.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?” She could barely bring herself to meet his eyes.
“For taking care of Pete. Seems to be just what he needed.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiled. “Would… would you like to freshen up some? I can fetch you some clean water.”
“Does that come with a rub down and a nice combing afterward?”
Melissa’s eyes rounded as she gasped at the comment, too flabbergasted to do much more than stare at him as her jaw hit the floor. Marcus chuckled and moved to let her pass.
“I apologize, ma’am. Just couldn’t resist teasing you.”
Her ears burned. Shifting from foot to foot, she considered bolting from the stables as fast as her feet could carry her, but she turned to face him instead, her green eyes flashing. “I cannot believe you just said that to me, sir.”
“You gonna slap me?” He winked at her, and the tone of his voice made her smile.
“I just might, Mr. McCaide. I just might.” Melissa turned and marched regally out of the stables.
His laughter carried out into the street behind her.
Three
“Do you think Mr. McCaide is handsome, Lissa?” Shirley sat in front of her mirror in the bedroom the sisters shared above the general store. Their father slept down the hall, and a small kitchen connected to the stairs leading down into the store itself.
Shirley obviously enjoyed combing her long, luxurious hair. It shone in the light of the candle on the vanity, making Melissa turn away in envy. Her sister’s hair was so beautiful, a burnished gold color that men couldn’t seem to get enough of. Melissa’s hair was simply a dark red, almost auburn. Not many women had hair as red as hers, but that didn’t make her feel unique as much as an outcast.
At least her hair was soft she thought as she ran her own comb through the length that reached her waist in thick waves. Her mother’s hair had been the same dark red, and Melissa smiled at the common bond she shared with her late mother that gave her comfort. She missed her mother, even if she’d constantly pampered Shirley in life. Perhaps that was why her sister was so vain.
“Did you hear me, Lissa?” Laying down her brush, Shirley smiled at herself in the mirror.
Melissa rolled her eyes and donned her nightgown. “Yes, I heard you.”
“Well?”
“Well, yes. He is handsome.”
“Do you think he’ll ask me to Mr. and Mrs. Patrick’s barn dance in two weeks?”
Melissa yawned. “I doubt he even knows there is a barn dance.”
“Then I’ll just have to tell him about it. Where do you think he’s staying?”
Sighing, Melissa wished her sister would simply be quiet so she could get some sleep. She pulled back the quilt on her bed and crawled underneath it. “Probably at Maude’s
Inn
down the road.”
Shirley nodded, still gazing at her own reflection and turning her head this way and that.
“Goodnight, Shirley.” Melissa closed her eyes.
“Do you think he likes me?” Shirley asked as if she hadn’t heard.
“Yes,” Melissa replied curtly, making the bed springs creak as she rolled over.
“Really?” Shirley squealed, clapping her hands in delight.
“What man doesn’t?”
“That’s very true.”
“Shirley?”
“Yes?”
Melissa could hear the perfume bottle spritzing from across the room. What did she need perfume for at this time of night? “Can we go to bed now?”
Shirley released a dramatic sigh right before she blew out the candle. “If we must.”
It was all Melissa could do not to cough at the cloud of fragrance that followed Shirley to her bed on the other side of the room.