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the same thing I gave Mr. Bledsoe when he complained of a toothache.” Speaking more to herself than to Melanie, she added, “I wonder if that’s why he looked a bit peaked after he took it.”
    Melanie pressed her lips together. Faulty eyesight could explain a lot about the wispy hair and the smear of what appeared to be flour on the front of the woman’s dark gray dress. Melanie only hoped her customer didn’t make too many mistakes of that kind, especially when it came to cooking. Her husband must have a cast-iron stomach.
    She scanned the shelves and pointed to a shelf holding a number of patent medicines. “Why don’t we look over here? I’m sure we can find what you need.”
    A smile glinted in the other woman’s eyes. “That’s mighty nice of you, going to all this trouble to help a stranger.”
    Melanie recognized her opportunity and extended her hand. “I won’t be a stranger for long. My name is Melanie Ross. You might have known my cousin George.”
    “Why, yes I did.” Her companion beamed. “George was a fine man, bless his soul.” She squinted and peered at Melanie closely. “I should have guessed you were some relation of his. Now that I look for it, the family resemblance is as plain as day.”
    Melanie devoutly hoped not. Cousin George was a dear man, but he’d been as bald as a coot and had a nose the shape of a potato.
    Her customer sniffled. “It was a sad day for us all when he passed away so sudden-like.”
    “Yes, I miss him more than I can say. We were the only family each other had. That’s why I’m in Cedar Ridge. I’vecome to see his partner about helping out in the mercantile.” She glared toward Caleb Nelson, still engrossed in helping the young couple with their order. “If I ever get an opportunity to speak to Mr. Nelson.”
    At that moment, three more customers entered the store, and the other woman chuckled. “It looks like you may have to wait on that a bit.”
    “I don’t mean him,” Melanie began. “I’m talking about his—” Her words were cut off by a ruckus at the door.
    “Land sakes!” The older woman planted her hands on her broad hips. “What are those two up to now?”
    Melanie turned to see two gangly cowboys wedged in the doorway. They elbowed one another, grunting and struggling, until they finally burst inside the mercantile like a cork popping from a bottle.
    The pair looked around the store wild-eyed. Catching sight of Melanie, one of them pointed and hollered, “There she is!” He shoved his companion out of the way and raced toward her.
    The other cowboy, not to be outdone, leaped over a crate holding washboards and skirted around a stack of blankets, knocking them askew as he ran past. They both skidded to a stop in front of Melanie at the same instant.
    “I got here first,” the taller one, a skinny blonde, declared.
    “Nosirree.” The shorter one glared up at him, his scraggly beard bristling. “I did!”
    The blond-haired man appealed to Melanie. “Ma’am, you be the judge. Who won?”
    The older woman elbowed Melanie and spoke in an undertone. “I’d say it was a dead heat.”
    Melanie finally found her voice. “What on earth is going on?”
    “That’s what I’d like to know.” Caleb Nelson strode toward them, his face as dark as a thundercloud.
    The two men looked at Caleb, then at each other, and then at Melanie. They both started talking at once, their words tumbling over each other.
    “My name is Dooley Hatcher.”
    “Ma’am, I’m Rupert Hatcher.”
    “I work for the Diamond B.”
    “I’ve been with Mr. Blake three years now.”
    “Mr. Blake told us you were in town, and—”
    “I wanted to be the first—”
    They glared at each other and spoke in unison.
    “Will you marry me?”

4

    W hen Mrs. Pike had stormed out earlier, Caleb didn’t think his day could get any worse. But the last thirty minutes had just proved how wrong a man could be. Since the gray-eyed woman walked inside his store, she had