A Bride in Store

by Melissa Jagears

  Free china. He didn’t stand a chance of surviving in this town with Dr. Benning and Eliza as competition. He looked at his Closed sign, then let his eyes slide shut. If only he could leave it flipped over permanently.

  He grabbed another biscuit and dug into the basket for the salt-cured ham sure to be tucked away inside. He unscrewed a canteen of tea and sat down on the countertop. “I’m glad you came by. Though I’m nearly starved, I don’t think I could have stomached another can of beans for supper.”

  His mother’s glare raked the length of him. “Don’t tell me you’ve been eating nothing but canned beans.”

  He took another huge bite of ham and biscuit rather than answer. He couldn’t afford the hotel diner every day . . . though surely he could tonight. Thank you, Lord, for some money flowing my way.

  “I’ll return for the basket.” Ma patted his arm. “I’ll go back to Eliza’s store while you eat.”

  She was going to Eliza’s now? He forced down his mouthful and grabbed another slice of ham. “I’ll join you. I haven’t yet seen the inside.”

  Following his mother out, he almost stumbled over his sister Emma sitting on the stair. “How’d you avoid getting trampled out here?”

  Her fierce frown turned comical when she added a glare.

  “Emma.” Ma’s face matched her oldest daughter’s. “Your attitude is frightfully close to getting you into more trouble. Watch your tongue and come along.”

  Will followed them down the street. Emma and Ma butted heads all the time now that the eight-year-old had decided they were equals.

  At Eliza’s Five and Dime, he stepped in front of his mother and sister to catch the swinging beveled-glass door. Several ladies exited, carrying paper-wrapped items and heavy bags. From where he stood, the interior appeared more suited for a fancy hotel. The rough wood walls of his tiny store looked like a railroad shanty in comparison.

  How much had this cost her? Where had she gotten the money? When he was a child, his parents had never taken him inside the jeweler’s, and he’d never been curious enough to peer through the windows, but he never imagined a store like this in Salt Flatts.

  Emma and his mother bustled inside between customers, leaving him to hold the door for several more ladies. When he found his ma again, she was standing in front of a table of the advertised china with a finger against her mouth.

  How smart of Eliza. If a woman started a collection, she’d finish, down to every last matching piece. Her coupon enticed customers to return without any promise of more free items.

  He fingered a teacup. The sign in the middle of the table read Five Cents. Taking in the little signs on the various tables, he calculated the cost of a set. Eliza would lose thirty-five cents out of a four-dollar expenditure.

  He’d given away five to a possible fifteen or more dollars of services for an equivalent purchase, with no enticement to return.

  Should he groan over his stupidity or chuckle at Eliza’s genius?

  Where was she? Hadn’t she always harped on him to greet customers at the threshold? He looked around. Behind the crowd at the main counter, Eliza was wrapping china with a flourish, the brightest smile he’d ever seen plastered on her face.

  “Hold this.” Ma handed him a painfully delicate white plate bordered with a simple string of blue leaves along the outer edge. Not the fanciest pattern, but then, what did people expect for a dime?

  “Now, what to buy for four dollars? There’s really nothing I need.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t tell your father that.”

  Will widened his eyes, pretending innocence. “No, ma’am.” He scanned the tables of toys, household items, and clothing accessories. “Don’t suppose she has food in here.”

  Emma tugged on his sleeve, making him grip the china harder. He quickly relaxed his hold, lest he crack the plates.

  “She has candy.”

  Candy wouldn’t settle his stomach.

  “And taffy and gumdrops and stuff I’ve never seen before!”

  Will grimaced. The candy bins wouldn’t thrill the confectioner next door.

  “All penny candy.”

  His mother drew up, hands on her hips. “We’re not buying four dollars’ worth of penny candy. We’d have to eat a piece a day to finish them before half the year—”

  “One a day?” Emma’s blue eyes lit.

  “Not going to happen, young lady. Go pick out ten pieces for yourself and for each of your brothers and sisters.”

  Emma scurried off, and his mother turned her frown back on the china set in his arms. “Maybe I shouldn’t buy this. I’m only wasting money on things I don’t need—like candy.” She ran a finger along the slightly fluted edge of the teacup.

  “Ma, you don’t have to use the coupon.” Eliza might want to throttle him for pointing this out, but his mother wasn’t thinking clearly. Who knew china could turn an intelligent woman’s brain into mush? “You can buy the set later. Pa knows you’ve regretted leaving your china behind when you moved out here, but you were a mite distracted if I recall the story.”

  Her eyes twinkled and her frown disappeared. “Yes, packing within an hour to run after a wagon train so the preacher could marry us before nightfall made me forget more than just dinnerware.”

  “A few more months without fancy dishes won’t feel like the twenty some years you’ve gone without.”

  “Twenty-three.” With a little sigh, she collected the dishes from his arms, then slowly replaced them one by one as if saying good-bye to each piece.

  He read Eliza’s flyer again. “Besides, you’ve got until the end of the month. If you need something for four dollars before then, you can still use your coupon.”

  “Only if supplies last, and I like this pattern.” She set the plate down and another woman swiped it off the stack.

  “I bet Eliza will stock enough of each pattern so she won’t miss a sale. But if your pattern isn’t here, there’s nothing wrong with supporting her by buying at full cost when she restocks.”

  “Right.” She patted his cheek. “Always thinking about what’s best for others.”

  “I got the candy, Ma.” Emma held out a paper bag.

  His mother’s upper lip twitched, making him want to laugh. She’d agreed to buy more candy than he recalled ever having in a year.

  Eliza certainly understood what drove customers. He sighed. If only he’d asked her advice about the coupon, he might not be booked until Christmas fixing ingrown toenails and popping boils on the backs of old bachelors.

  Will peered into the candy bag full of black gumdrops. “I don’t think John likes these.”

  “Everyone likes black gumdrops.”

  “No. I’m pretty sure he hates them.”

  Emma didn’t look contrite. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to eat his.”

  Ma scowled. “Since she’s touched them, I suppose it’d be wrong to put the candy back in the bin.”

  Emma beamed, and Will tried hard not to smile at his sister’s underhandedness. He didn’t want to encourage her.

  “We could buy more, Ma.” Emma looked up into the air. “Maybe he’d eat red ones. I like red ones too.”

  “What color don’t you like, young lady?”

  Emma stuck out her tongue. “Yellow.”

  “Get ten yellow ones.” Ma watched her trudge away, then turned to him with a frown bigger than Emma’s. “Does John like yellow gumdrops?”

  Will laughed. “I don’t think he likes gumdrops at all, Ma.” He walked after Emma, glancing back at his mother. “But I’ll pay for them.” Six dimes would be worth getting a minute with Eliza. He only wished he could see John’s face when he opened up a bagful of the one candy he despised.

  Emma had already scooped out the yellow ones, so Will grabbed five sticks of rock candy and threw them in the bag. “These are for John, not you.”

  His sister rolled her eyes and clamped the bag to her chest as he pushed her into the slow-moving line.

  Shadows of fatigue dec
orated Eliza’s face despite the happy crinkles around her eyes. Did this many people normally come into town on Tuesdays, or had he forced all his customers here by closing early?

  If only they could have worked together. But the more he wanted her by his side, the less it seemed likely to happen. Once again, all he could offer was himself, and she’d truly find him inadequate now that she had this fancy new store. And she hadn’t even trusted him enough to tell him about it.

  She’d never want to leave a successful store—and it seemed she didn’t want him involved in her life either—not that she needed his advice, considering her store already outshone his. He forced himself to stop clenching his teeth.

  When Emma made it to the front of the line, Eliza glanced up at him and then toward the clock. “Did you close early?”

  He shrugged. “I needed food.”

  She put a hand to her stomach. “I think I forgot to eat.”

  “You’ve been busy.” He pushed the bag of candy toward her. “And to think, yesterday you thought I’d stolen all your customers.”

  She grimaced and ducked her head to look in the bag. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t purposely hurt me.”

  “Never.” He reached out his hand, covering hers, waiting for her to look at him. “I’d never do that.” He’d forget about a life with her before he hurt her.

  The feel of her skin under his hand recalled the sensation of her cheek while removing her stitches, her soft hair between his fingers as he’d plucked away a feather, the warmth of her forehead against his palm in the butcher’s alley.

  It was hard to be mad at her when she felt so . . . so . . .

  “There’s sixty gumdrops and five sticks of rock candy in there.” Emma leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Can I eat one now?”

  Eliza stared at his hand on hers.

  “You have to ask Ma first.” He snatched his hand away and pulled out his money clip.

  Emma cradled the bag as if they’d take it from her if Ma said no.

  “Might you be able to . . . come to dinner after work?” Eliza fingered the dollar he’d pushed toward her. At the sound of a woman’s impatient sigh behind him, Eliza’s scar stood out sharply against the pink infusing her cheeks. She swiped his money off the counter, dropped it in her box, and counted out change.

  He scratched behind his ear. “Unfortunately, I’ve got dinner plans.” After turning down the Graves’ last invitation for dinner, he’d realized he really should have accepted, and did so when they came into the store that morning. He had to tell Nancy his affections lay elsewhere, that whatever he’d once felt for her had been surpassed by his feelings for another.

  But maybe he was wrong to hold out any hope of winning a woman who couldn’t confide in him about the significant changes in her life that would affect him and—

  “Ahem.” The throat-clearing woman behind him pressed closer. “Excuse me, but I haven’t got all day.”

  Eliza gave him a little smile. “Maybe another time?”

  He swallowed. “Perhaps.”

  Her smile slowly flattened. “All right.”

  “Come on, William.” Emma threaded her hand in his and tugged.

  He tipped his head toward Eliza, keeping his gaze on her despite being dragged away by his sister. The phlegm-plagued lady took his place at the counter, obscuring Eliza from sight.

  The desire to walk back and tell her he’d cancel his dinner plans with Nancy and her family almost stopped him. Almost.

  Despite leaving him, Nancy had never kept anything from him. She’d told him when she’d been upset about how his career goals weren’t coming to fruition. She’d told him about her decision to pursue the widower who was in town visiting her brother.

  He’d thought Eliza kept nothing to herself, since she’d seemed to be frankness personified. But evidently she wasn’t always forthright.

  Emma dropped his hand. “We ready to go?”

  Ma frowned and touched him lightly on the shoulder. “What did Eliza say to you to put that look on your face?”

  “Nothing.” Will closed his eyes. “She told me nothing.”

  Chapter 19

  Will drummed his fingers. He’d recalculated and recounted. Money was definitely missing from his cashbox—like so many times before.

  He’d always figured his poor math skills caused the discrepancies, and Axel had never failed to find the mathematical mistake or recall an unrecorded purchase. He’d always given him that look, subtly blaming Will’s trouble with numbers and letters.

  Had the discrepancies never been his fault?

  What if Axel was still around? What if his trail had gone cold because the posse hadn’t thought to check for any evidence that he’d circled back, returning to Salt Flatts?

  If Axel was in town, he’d probably steal something he knew Will would never check on—Nancy’s engagement ring. Axel had often pushed him to sell the opal and diamond ring belonging to Ma’s grandmother and rolled his eyes whenever Will refused.

  Will clomped to his room, turned on a lamp, and kneeled beside his cot. He fished for the box containing Nancy’s old letters, but only felt cobwebs. He lay flat on the floor and stretched his arm toward the wall. There it was.

  He dragged it across the floor and blew off the dust before opening the lid.

  No ring.

  Of course it was gone. But how long ago had Axel stolen it?

  Will leaned back against his bed and let the air rush out of his lungs. He’d been stupid not to think of Axel the moment the sheriff asked about petty thefts. A complete imbecile for ignoring his childhood buddy’s waywardness. A hundred times the fool for trusting people so easily.

  What would his mother say when she learned someone had stolen it? What would he present to a woman—Eliza, perhaps—if he ever got the chance to get down on one knee again?

  He pinched the bridge of his nose until he was able to think straight. What else had Axel stolen? He’d have to talk to the sheriff, but was this an old theft or a new one? If Axel was responsible for the current rounds of thefts, maybe he’d be captured soon.

  And if Axel was caught and the store auctioned . . .

  Will dropped the box onto his cot. Returning to the front, he walked the aisles, scanning everything of value. The guns on the gunsmithing counter were accounted for. The five plain wedding bands glinted on a velvet cushion under their glass box.

  A normal thief would have stolen things in plain sight.

  But if it was Axel, why hadn’t he pilfered the Waller gang’s loot, taken everything out of the Men’s Emporium’s cashbox, perhaps robbed a bank, and then dashed out of town a long time ago?

  Mrs. Langston.

  With few friends, she’d most likely hide her son no matter the consequences, and Axel probably wouldn’t leave until he felt his mother was taken care of or he convinced her to leave town with him.

  How could a man who cherished his mother turn out so badly?

  Will grabbed a lantern and closed up. The best time to catch Axel at his mother’s would be after visitors were no longer expected. If he saw any sign of his friend, he’d go for the sheriff. If not, he’d get what information he could out of Mrs. Langston.

  Because if Axel was still around, he needed to be captured before he caused anybody—especially Eliza—any more harm.

  Turning the wick up in her cramped back office, Eliza blinked bleary eyes, trying to focus on the numbers in front of her. If she didn’t have this order in the post by tomorrow, the store would soon run out of toys and candy. She ought to put in another order for china too, and inventory the rest of the kitchen section.

  Despite the tug to sleep sitting up, she smiled. The throng of customers the past few days had forced her to clean, organize, and tally her sales late into the night.

  Business was better than she’d hoped!

  God, thank you so much for things going so smoothly. I’m sorry that I didn’t trust you to help me for so long, and then you helped me even though
I didn’t ask.

  Leaving Irena alone so many nights in a row didn’t sit well, but the woman insisted she’d been alone before and could be so again.

  Besides, it would only last a few more months. If business continued this steadily, she could hire a clerk soon.

  A whine, seemingly from the street, prickled the hair on her neck. She quit writing and listened.

  The ticking of the clock beside her grew louder with each second.

  Nothing.

  She released the breath she’d been holding and scanned the catalog for new items. What would a child or parent with a little extra change find irresistible?

  Boards squeaked overhead, but she refused to pay them any mind. Working in a huge store at night with only the Kansas wind for company would make anyone jumpy.

  “Uff.”

  Eliza froze, but every single nerve twitched in her body. That wasn’t the wind. Or a coon, or any other creature she could blame but one.

  What she wouldn’t give to have Will working behind a gunsmithing counter now.

  Lowering the lamp’s wick ever so slowly, she looked around for something to use as a weapon. Hadn’t she locked up? Maybe the wind had pushed a door open. But that other sound . . .

  What to do? Hide, or yell in hopes of scaring the intruder away?

  Lord, help me.

  She’d never fought anyone in her life, and if she ran, her cumbersome petticoats would make her easy prey.

  But she couldn’t just sit and wait. A thief would head straight for the office in search of a cashbox. The Jacob’s ladders, teacups, and hand towels out front wouldn’t interest someone looking for quick cash—and she wouldn’t hand her money over to another criminal.

  If only she’d made it to the bank before they closed. She unlatched the cashbox as quietly as possible, pulled out the bills, then shoved them under a stack of old papers she’d collected to wrap fragile items.