two very different things. Best to stay focused on the task at hand. After all, he had his investors to answer to.
Then again, he would need the help of the local women, wouldn’t he? Yes, he would surely need barmaids and dancers. However, the woman he’d just fixed in his mind looked like the sort who was more at home on a church pew than a bar stool. If all the women of Spring Creek were like the one he’d just met, he’d have to look elsewhere for employees.
But he suspected that the blue-eyed beauty who’d practically run him down was one of a kind. One of a kind indeed.
Chapter Three
Ida entered the mercantile at exactly five minutes past two. She slipped on her apron and started arranging canned goods.
“Well, it’s about time.”
Ida’s brow wrinkled in concern as she heard Dinah’s voice. She looked up, seeing the strong family resemblance in her aunt’s stern eyes. Papa and his younger sister bore the same features, without question. And they had similar temperaments, as well, despite their vast difference in age. Dinah was a mere twenty-eight, though her mannerisms often led folks to believe otherwise.
Dinah had suffered much over the past couple of years and the cares of life had aged her somehow. But since the death of Dinah’s husband, the family had grown closer than ever and Ida treasured her friendship. Papa had taken his only sister and her son under his wing, caring for their every need. No one could doubt his generous nature or his kind heart. And that very kindness had prompted him to purchase the mercantile and place it into Dinah’s capable hands last fall.
“Because I know you will do it right,” he had proclaimed. “You will make the Mueller family proud.”
And indeed she had. Nestled amid saloons and restaurants, the store remained the town’s last sensible place, where folks could come to share a good story, purchase life’s necessities and hear Dinah’s ardent presentation of God’s love. The shop stayed full from morning till night with those hungry for companionship and direction.
And Ida, always ready to lend a hand, came every day at two o’clock to spend time behind the counter so that Dinah could focus on Carter, her five-year-old son.
Only two o’clock never seemed to come at the right time, particularly not on days like today with so many chores to be done.
“I’m sorry I’m late. Really, I am.” With a gesture toward the street, Ida added, “But this time I have an excuse. I wasn’t watching where I was going and I ran right into this man. He was…It’s hard to describe. He wore the most beautiful clothes. He must have just arrived on the train. Funny—I didn’t even get his name.”
Dinah gave her an inquisitive look. “Why, Ida, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this side of you. You’re smitten.”
Dinah’s comment startled Ida. She tried to busy herself arranging jars of honey. “I would hardly call it that. I’m simply curious.” She paused to think about her aunt’s words before adding, “It’s just that he’s so different from all the other fellas. Those railroad men are…they’re impossible. This stranger was a true gentleman.” She put down the jar and looked out the window at a couple of men who’d taken to scuffling with each other in the street.
“Are they still giving you a hard time on your trip to town?” Dinah picked up a broom, as if ready to do business with anyone who dared to enter in a flirtatious state of mind.
“Yes.” Ida’s dander rose as she revisited the trip down Midway. “Our little town is looking more like Houston every day. Railroad men. Taverns. Primitive behavior in the streets. The place is losing its innocence, which is why it’s so refreshing to see a man of refinement for a change. I do hope he’s here to stay, and not just passing through on his way to Houston.”
“Most of the strangers who come to Spring Creek do not come with the best of motives.” Dinah crossed her arms at her chest, looking more concerned than ever.
“Oh, I know.” A sigh escaped Ida’s lips as she reflected on the problem their town now faced. “And you can be sure the afternoon train brought in more riffraff. Every day they come, headed to the land agent’s office to buy up their piece of the pie. The town is growing up too fast. It’s frightening.” She felt a little shiver run up her spine.
“At least business is good.” Dinah gestured to the cash register with a smile. “I sold several pounds of coffee this morning. And there’s not enough chewing tobacco in the state to keep these men happy.” She paused a moment as she gazed around the very busy shop. “Best of all, they pay cash.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Unlike so many of the locals. I can’t tell you how many of them buy on credit and then don’t pay their bills on time. It’s a problem, Ida.”
“I know, but—”
“I’ve traded some of my best merchandise for butter, eggs, herbs, even chickens,” Dinah said with exasperation. “And then there’s Mrs. Gertsch! Would you believe the woman actually wanted to trade in a stack of her used dime novels for honey?”
Ida couldn’t help but chuckle at that news. After all, she’d sold the elderly woman those dime novels in the first place—they’d spent hours discussing the adventure stories. But this might not be the best time to share that information with Dinah.
“I’m not saying I mind so much,” her aunt continued, “but cash money is a good thing for a business.”
“Still,” Ida argued, “I’ll take a hardworking local over a cash-handling railroad man any day to make the town safe again. It’s hardly worth risking life and limb just to get down Midway. Whatever happened to our sleepy little town?”
“Woke up, I guess.” Dinah took to sweeping the floor.
“Humph.” Ida shook her head in defiance. “I’d give my eye teeth for a return to the way things used to be.”
She continued to look out the window, trying with all her might to remember the little town that had captivated her heart when she was a child. In her mind’s eye, she saw what Spring Creek would be like now, if the railroad had never come through. She saw churches, fields of sugarcane and delightful little shops. Women and children walked about in safety, packages in their arms and carefree smiles on their faces. Men gestured kindly to one another, never shouting obscenities, and never, ever whistling at women. In that quaint place, people would feel safe, secure.
Dinah’s son, Carter, bounded into the room, breaking into Ida’s thoughts. Jam stains covered his face, from brow to chin.
“Son, what have you done?” Setting the broom aside, Dinah rushed to his side and pried the jar of homemade strawberry preserves from his tightly clenched fist.
“Mine, Mother.” He grinned with mischief in his eyes. Though Ida knew he deserved a good scolding, she had to stifle a laugh.
“At two o’clock in the afternoon?” Dinah asked as she placed the sticky jar on the countertop. “You believe this to be the proper time for sweets?”
“Anytime is the proper time, so long as it tastes good. Right, darlin’?” Ida scooped her young cousin into her arms and spun in circles until they were both dizzy. Carter let out a giggle, which bounced around the room and startled a few of the store’s patrons.
Ida
