appealing when she enters a store, and this”—she swept her arm in a wide circle—“is not it.”
Caleb’s eyebrows dipped low, and he took a deep breath. “You may have some good ideas, but you don’t know Cedar Ridge and the people here. This isn’t Ohio, or any part of the East, and we do things a little differently here.”
He pointed to a chair near the back wall. “Why don’t you just sit over there and watch the way things go for a day or two?” He shot another look at Melanie. “Or even a week. By then, you’ll have a better idea of how the store functions before you go trying to turn everything upside down.”
“But I’m only trying to—”
“Have you ever run a store, Miss Ross?”
Melanie narrowed her eyes. “On my own? No. But I helped out in the store my grandparents owned in Ohio. And I know the kinds of things women expect.” A happy thought struck her, and her mood brightened. “That can be part of my contribution to this enterprise. It’s obvious you need a woman’s point of view in running this mercantile.”
Caleb took a step toward her. “And it’s obvious you don’t know the first thing about the seller’s side of the business. If I go spending money on things that may not sell, that money comes right out of my pocket.”
Melanie stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated. “Right out of . . . that reminds me. I need to ask you about something.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the note. Summoning up her nerve, she looked him squarely in the face. “I know you’re none too happy about my being here. I found this note in my room this morning. Did you leave it there?”
Caleb took the paper from her and gave it a quick glance. His lips tightened. “No, I didn’t. It has nothing to do with you.” He tucked the scrap into his apron pocket.
Melanie waited for a further explanation, but he remained silent. He obviously didn’t want to discuss the matter further. Fine, let him have his own way . . . for now. That didn’t mean she would dismiss the note—or its ominousimplications—but they had plenty of other things to discuss at the moment.
“If you’re not going to let me implement these ideas right away, at least tell me what I can do to help.”
Caleb sighed and glanced at the walnut mantel clock on the shelf along the wall behind the counter. “We don’t have much time, so pay attention.”
He led her to a small office next to the storeroom. Melanie took in the spare furnishings: a small table, a rolltop desk, and a pair of file cabinets.
“I keep all the records here,” he said. “Orders, shipment receipts, and customer accounts.” He swung around and walked back into the mercantile so quickly that Melanie had to scramble out of his way to avoid a collision. She aimed a glare at his back.
Just outside the office door, he stopped at the chair he had indicated to her earlier. Beside it stood a square table with a stack of books on top.
“This is where the catalogs are kept. I can’t carry everything, so this is where I help customers look to find items I don’t normally stock.”
“Like the baby things that young couple was looking for yesterday.”
“Exactly.” He patted the stack of catalogs. “Come to think of it, this might be the best place for you to begin. Why don’t you sit here and go through them all. It will give you a chance to familiarize yourself with what’s in them and the way they’re organized. That way you’ll be better equipped to assist customers when I think you’re ready to start helping out.”
And in the meantime, it keeps me out of your way. She understood his ploy perfectly. It was the same one she’d usedto keep lively children from getting underfoot while making them feel they were doing something useful.
“And over here . . .” Caleb walked to the end of the counter and reached underneath it, pulling out a sheaf of papers. “Here’s a list of the inventory, along with the
Caleb’s eyebrows dipped low, and he took a deep breath. “You may have some good ideas, but you don’t know Cedar Ridge and the people here. This isn’t Ohio, or any part of the East, and we do things a little differently here.”
He pointed to a chair near the back wall. “Why don’t you just sit over there and watch the way things go for a day or two?” He shot another look at Melanie. “Or even a week. By then, you’ll have a better idea of how the store functions before you go trying to turn everything upside down.”
“But I’m only trying to—”
“Have you ever run a store, Miss Ross?”
Melanie narrowed her eyes. “On my own? No. But I helped out in the store my grandparents owned in Ohio. And I know the kinds of things women expect.” A happy thought struck her, and her mood brightened. “That can be part of my contribution to this enterprise. It’s obvious you need a woman’s point of view in running this mercantile.”
Caleb took a step toward her. “And it’s obvious you don’t know the first thing about the seller’s side of the business. If I go spending money on things that may not sell, that money comes right out of my pocket.”
Melanie stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated. “Right out of . . . that reminds me. I need to ask you about something.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the note. Summoning up her nerve, she looked him squarely in the face. “I know you’re none too happy about my being here. I found this note in my room this morning. Did you leave it there?”
Caleb took the paper from her and gave it a quick glance. His lips tightened. “No, I didn’t. It has nothing to do with you.” He tucked the scrap into his apron pocket.
Melanie waited for a further explanation, but he remained silent. He obviously didn’t want to discuss the matter further. Fine, let him have his own way . . . for now. That didn’t mean she would dismiss the note—or its ominousimplications—but they had plenty of other things to discuss at the moment.
“If you’re not going to let me implement these ideas right away, at least tell me what I can do to help.”
Caleb sighed and glanced at the walnut mantel clock on the shelf along the wall behind the counter. “We don’t have much time, so pay attention.”
He led her to a small office next to the storeroom. Melanie took in the spare furnishings: a small table, a rolltop desk, and a pair of file cabinets.
“I keep all the records here,” he said. “Orders, shipment receipts, and customer accounts.” He swung around and walked back into the mercantile so quickly that Melanie had to scramble out of his way to avoid a collision. She aimed a glare at his back.
Just outside the office door, he stopped at the chair he had indicated to her earlier. Beside it stood a square table with a stack of books on top.
“This is where the catalogs are kept. I can’t carry everything, so this is where I help customers look to find items I don’t normally stock.”
“Like the baby things that young couple was looking for yesterday.”
“Exactly.” He patted the stack of catalogs. “Come to think of it, this might be the best place for you to begin. Why don’t you sit here and go through them all. It will give you a chance to familiarize yourself with what’s in them and the way they’re organized. That way you’ll be better equipped to assist customers when I think you’re ready to start helping out.”
And in the meantime, it keeps me out of your way. She understood his ploy perfectly. It was the same one she’d usedto keep lively children from getting underfoot while making them feel they were doing something useful.
“And over here . . .” Caleb walked to the end of the counter and reached underneath it, pulling out a sheaf of papers. “Here’s a list of the inventory, along with the
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