In Your Arms (4 page)

Silence descended upon them as his eyes roamed over her face, focusing on her mouth as if his thoughts were elsewhere. In her nervousness, Melissa licked her lips. As soon as she did, Marcus closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, his fingers running brutally through his hair.

“Are you all right, Marcus?”

“I’ll be just fine,” he practically snapped, turning from her and marching toward the front of the store with a scowl on his face.

Left alone near the pump, Melissa considered going after him, but the look in his eyes only a moment before told her she should leave him be for now. He’d appeared to be fighting himself over something, and she wasn’t fool enough to confront a man when he was angry.

~ * ~

A few hours later, Melissa sat behind the counter still thinking about her conversation with Marcus. Knowing that he’d killed some men made her shiver with dread. She didn’t fear him, but she desperately wanted to know why he’d done it. She had a feeling she would never know.

He’d walked back into the store just a few minutes after their interlude, but he’d ignored her for the most part. When Shirley descended the staircase, she looked like an angel with even more rouge on than usual. Large pink bows that matched her dress were in her hair, and instantly the little shop smelled like her oppressive perfume. Marcus even coughed a few times as he set the bags of oats and flour against the wall, making Melissa smile.

She caught his eye when he looked up once, and even he couldn’t hide the smile that cracked his lips when Shirley’s back was turned. Melissa scrunched her nose a few times, making him chuckle. Unfortunately, the sound of his laughter drew Shirley’s attention to him.

“Good morning, Mr. McCaide,” she cooed, twirling a lock of her hair in her fingers.

“Morning, ma’am.”

“Please, my name is Shirley.”

He suddenly looked like a caged animal, glancing all around him for some kind of escape route.

“Lissa dear,” Shirley went on, “would you sweep the floor while I talk privately with Marcus? I swear there’s more dust in this store than out on the street.”

Melissa glanced up at Marcus and noticed his arched brow. She couldn’t help but remember their conversation from earlier that morning.

“No, I don’t think I will.”

Shirley turned, her eyes wide. “Why not? You’re just sitting there.”

Shrugging her shoulders, she leaned back on the stool. “I swept yesterday. It’s your turn.”

“But, Lissa, you know this is my favorite dress.” Shirley indicated the soft pink garment with frilly lace at the cuffs and collar that she was wearing. “I can’t risk getting it soiled.”

“Then why did you wear it when you knew you’d be working today?”

Shirley began to look exasperated, but rather than spew her venom on Melissa in front of Marcus, she apparently decided to hide her anger.

“I felt like wearing it.”

“Then you should change before you sweep the floor,” Melissa said.

Marcus coughed in the corner. Stealing a glimpse at him, Melissa saw his eyes sparkling. His hand hid a secret smile.

“That’s all right, Miss Bloom,” he said. “I’ll wait for you to change and sweep the floor before we talk.”

The look on Shirley’s face was priceless as she glanced back at him standing near the rear door of the shop.

“But--” she began.

“That’s very gracious of you, Mr. McCaide.” Melissa grinned at him.

“Where is Father?” Shirley was pouting as she turned back to Melissa.

“He’s resting. You know he sometimes naps during the afternoon.”

Stomping her foot, Shirley flounced out of the shop back up the stairs, looking for all the world like a scorned princess.

“You handled that well,” Marcus whispered, glancing up the steps after Shirley.

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Nah. She’ll learn. You might not be her favorite person for the next few weeks, but it really is for her own good.”

“Did you see the look on her face?” Unable to hold back any longer, Melissa giggled uncontrollably.

A wide grin spread out on Marcus’s face as he winked. He took a step toward her, but a customer entered the store at that moment, interrupting their light banter.

“Ah, Lissa! You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“Hello, Dr. Newcomb,” Melissa said. “Nice to see you.”

When he reached the back counter, Dr. Newcomb took her hand and kissed it, lingering longer than was proper. Pulling her hand out of his, she gave him a wary smile. He was an older man who sported a bushy mustache, his salt-and-pepper hair slicked back on his head. Wearing a sharp brown suit complete with a gold watch in his breast pocket, there wasn’t a speck of dust on him.

“What can I do for you today?” she asked.

Looking around, Dr. Newcomb spotted Marcus by the sacks of oats and flour. His eyes seemed to narrow as he stared at him.

“Dr. Newcomb, this is Mr. McCaide. He’s helping my father around the store. You know how my father’s joints act up.”

“Of course. How do you do, Mr. McCaide?” Holding out his hand, the doctor clearly expected Marcus to cross the room to shake his hand.

Wiping his palm on his jeans, Marcus grabbed Dr. Newcomb’s hand, pumping it up and down brusquely. “How do you do, sir?”

“Fine, thank you.” Dr. Newcomb pulled away his hand and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief, wiping his fingers with a tepid smile.

Melissa looked back and forth between the two men, wondering just what was going on between them.

“Can I… help you find something today, Dr. Newcomb?”

“No, Lissa. I came to ask you something.”

“Oh?”

It became obvious that Marcus had no intension of leaving the conversation when he leaned his elbows on the countertop. Pursing his lips, Dr. Newcomb stood a little straighter and cleared his throat.

“Would you do me the honor of going with me to the Patricks’ barn dance?”

Melissa’s eyes widened. She knew her intake of breath could be heard by both men. Her gaze flew to Marcus and back to the doctor, not knowing exactly what to say. She did want to go, but this man was old enough to be her father! She knew she shouldn’t be picky when it came to men asking for the pleasure of her company, but she wanted someone closer to her own age. Someone more like…

“I’m sorry, Dr. Newcomb,” Marcus said. “But Miss Bloom has agreed to go to the dance with me.”

“She has?”

“I have?”

“Don’t you remember me asking you this morning, sugar?” Marcus’s eyes were smiling, and when she didn’t immediately answer, he gently stepped on her foot behind the counter.

“Oh yes! I do remember, Mr. McCaide. I… I’m sorry, Mr. Newcomb, but I’m afraid I’m attending with Mr. McCaide.”

Nodding in defeat, the doctor implored, “Surely Mr. McCaide won’t deny me the pleasure of one dance?”

“Of course not.” Marcus smiled.

“Good day, Mr. McCaide, Miss Bloom.” With that, Dr. Newcomb turned on his heel and swept out of the shop.

“Marcus!” Melissa gasped, smacking his shoulder. “How could you do that? You did no such thing!” When Marcus leaned in close, she could feel the heat from his body.

“I couldn’t very well let you go to the dance with that old man, now could I? Besides, by the look on your face at his inquiry, you were asking me to rescue you.”

They heard Shirley making her way down the stairs once again, this time in an old calico dress, and Melissa grumbled under her breath, “Seems to me you were the one who wanted to be rescued.”

His bark of laughter rang out through the store. “Ah, Lissa. How well you think you know me.”

With that, he moved to the rear door of the shop and disappeared outside.

Five

“How could you do that to me?”

“Do what?” Melissa asked while she brushed her hair later that evening.

“Ask Marcus to the barn dance. You knew I was going to bring it up to him.”

“I didn’t ask him, Shirley. He asked me and I accepted.”

If stomping on my foot could be called asking,
she thought to herself with a grin.

“Then why didn’t you refuse? You knew I was planning on going with him.”

“Why didn’t I refuse?” Melissa whirled on her sister, pointing the brush at her. “I’m tired of pampering you, Shirley. You are a spoiled rotten brat, and I wanted to teach you that you don’t always get what you want. It’s also why I made you sweep the floor today. Of course, whether or not you actually picked up any dust is another story.”

“Well, I never!”

“Exactly, Shirley. You
never
. We’re finally seeing eye to eye on something.”

Narrowing her eyes, Shirley glared at her sister through her lowered lashes. “Well, we’ll just see who Marcus chooses in the end. He probably only asked you because he was too intimidated to ask
me
.”

“Intimidated by what? Your perfume?

“By my beauty, of course.”

It was all Melissa could do not to laugh in her face.

“Shirley, the man is hardly intimidated by you. He wears guns, for Heaven’s sake. Don’t you think he knows how to use them? My guess is he’s not only pointed the barrel of a gun but has also looked down one pointed at him. After cheating death like that, I’m sure nothing is intimidating anymore.”

Shirley flounced to her bed, punching her pillow a few times before rolling over and facing the wall. After a few blessed moments of silence, she apparently decided to unleash her acidic tongue after all.

“So you think he wants you, Lissa? The woman who stinks of horses after working in the stables? The woman who has never once received a proposal of marriage? You think someone as handsome as Marcus would ever want someone as plain as
you
?”

Melissa gripped the edges of the vanity in fury. “You know what, Shirley? I never knew what a bitch you really were until this very moment.”

Slamming her brush down, Melissa flew out of the room, down the steps and out the back door of the shop.

~ * ~

The evening air was warm, yet a cool breeze played with tendrils of her hair as Melissa trudged away from the buildings of Gideon’s Gulch. She wanted to be alone, and the cover of trees near Jasper’s Creek was the perfect spot. She went there often when her troubles weighed down on her. Angrily, she wiped a few stray tears from her face.

She hated crying, hated ever showing a weakness. The last thing she needed was pity. The looks of approval today from the townsfolk when they’d thought Marcus was her suitor had made the bile rise up in her throat. She knew they hadn’t believed that Melissa Bloom could ever be so fortunate as to land a man while her beautiful sister was still single.

And Shirley had been right, after all. Marcus only wanted to go to the silly barn dance with her as an excuse not to go with her sister. What other reason could there possibly be? Men wanted flowing blonde hair, not long red waves. Blue eyes held them captivated, not dark green ones. When it came to curves, they liked rounded women, not skinny girls. And women were supposed to smell of lilacs and lavender, not manure and sweat.