that kind of poise didn’t come from any one place or from doing odd jobs like sewing or painting.
The fan in the corner stirred her hair. There wasn’t a man in the room who wasn’t mesmerized by the movement of those silky tresses, the style of her trim, ankle-length skirt, and the fit of her sleeveless blouse. And no matter what she said, Sky doubted there was a man in the place who wasn’t imagining what she would look like out of it. She wasn’t buxom, but she had curves in all the right places, curves he’d memorized with his hands, and lips and…
“…and I’m hoping to hire an apprentice or two to help me with the reupholstering and sewing.”
Chairs creaked as a dozen hands shot into the air. The sudden hubbub drew Sky from his daydream.
Meredith had relaxed, as if enjoying the easy camaraderie with the people of Jasper Gulch. “Sorry,” she said. “I’d prefer to interview women.”
“Now ain’t that a little prejudiced?” Ben Jacobs asked playfully.
“Mertyl?” Jayne Stryker sputtered, stepping closer to Meredith. “Raise two fingers like this.” When the little gray-haired lady had done so, Jayne said, “Now whack Ben upside the head with them for me, would you, please?”
There was a distinctive slap, followed by a pitifully unconvincing “Ow,” followed by a roomful of grins.
“The purpose of Meredith’s and my endeavors,” Jayne said, brown eyes flashing, “is to create new jobs for our local girls, so that they might have options other than becoming a rancher’s wife right out of high school or moving to the city where there are better job prospects. Now, does anybody have a question for Meredith?”
“Are you married?”
“I mean concerning her store,” Jayne insisted. “You’re living in the apartment over the store, aren’t you?”
“What’s your phone number?”
Jayne threw up her hands.
“Care to see a show with me?”
“How about dinner?”
The questions rang out from every corner of the room with dizzying speed, making it difficult for Meredith to know which one to address first. The ad had said the bachelors of Jasper Gulch were shy but willing. An updated version would have to say they were more willing than shy. Still, they were delightful.
Before she’d opened her mouth to let them down easy, an old man whose thumbs were hooked in his suspenders exclaimed, “You boys can be a little more original than that. Why, you asked Jillian and Lisa those same dang questions at a meeting just like this one three years ago.”
“I’ve got one,” Ben Jacobs exclaimed as he scooted as far away from Mertyl Gentry as he could get. “Forget dating and marry me.”
“A public marriage proposal has been done, too,” Luke Carson said, tapping his palm with the gavel.
“You all remember what happened the night Wes Stryker went down on one knee and asked Louetta Graham to be his wife,” old Doc Masey declared. “Wes didn’t fare so well.”
They all shook their heads forlornly, all except Wes and Louetta, who were now both happily married, only not to each other.
“Listen,” Meredith said, holding up one hand. “I didn’t come to Jasper Gulch in answer to your advertisement.”
“You didn’t?”
She shook her head. “I came here because this is where my niece and nephew are.”
“But as long as you’re here,” somebody called.
She shook her head again.
“You mean you aren’t planning to date?”
“Ever?”
She lifted one shoulder. “At least not for a while.”
“How long’s a while?”
Meredith hadn’t planned to get into this tonight, but now that the issue had been raised, she felt she should address it. “Well, not until I’m settled,” she said, her smile genuine, her voice warm and sincere and just soft enough to be soothing. “To tell you the truth, I’ve promised myself one year free of making any sudden moves or rash decisions.”
She found herself staring into a pair of moss-green eyes shaded by a brown Stetson. Sky’s gaze was so direct and unsettling the pit of her stomach took a nosedive toward her toes.
Clearing her throat, she said, “I plan to make my home here, and I don’t want to have any regrets.” That said, she forced herself to look at the other people in the room. It seemed she’d scored some brownie points with the Ladies Aid Society, but not with the local men. Since the success of her business depended upon being liked, she hurried to say, “In the meantime, you’re all welcome to stop by the store, to browse, and talk. I give great advice about patterns and color schemes and painting techniques, and my interior design rates are extremely affordable.”
With a smile, she bid everyone goodbye. Keeping her eyes straight ahead, she strode to the back of the room through a crescendo of “aw shucks” and “rats” and “just our luck.”
She glanced over her shoulder just before closing the door behind her. She could hear Luke Carson banging his gavel on the podium, but her gaze never made it that far. A lot of the men had crammed their hats back on their heads. She found herself staring into the eyes of the man who’d never taken his off. Her nerves fluttered. Lucky for her, the door closed before she got thoroughly lost in the depths of green eyes that were hooded by thoughts she couldn’t begin to decipher.
“Somethin’ wrong with that beer, sugar?”
Sky eyed his untouched bottle of beer, shaking his head at DoraLee Brown. “Just not thirsty, I guess.”
Moseying on over to the Crazy Horse along with several of the other men had seemed like a good idea when the town meeting had adjourned an hour ago. Sky usually enjoyed talking and laughing and playing a game or two of cards. He’d told a joke he’d tried out on the hired hands at the Lone M that very afternoon. They’d laughed their heads off. Of course they had. It had the best dang punch line he’d heard in years. The Crazy Horse crowd had listened. And nothing. Nobody so much as cracked a grin. The only thing any of them seemed interested in doing tonight was talking about Meredith Warner.
“She wants to sell us paint and sofas and lamp shades,” Neil Anderson said.
“Worse, she doesn’t want to date anybody for a whole year,” his brother, Norbert added.
“Why move to a town that advertised for women if you don’t want to get to know the men?” Ben Jacobs asked, rubbing the spot where Mertyl had clipped him with two surprisingly strong arthritic fingers.
“To start a business, I guess,” one of the other boys answered.
Sky pushed his beer a little farther away. He might as well leave.
“Who in Sam Hill would want to open a business here?”
Sky
