Once in a Blue Moon (29 page)

Richard looked up and
grinned. “And how cool is that?”

Melissa rolled her
eyes. “Please. Whatever you do, don’t get any more hick on me than
you already are.”

As her family started
to explore, Melissa stopped to look around. It took a moment for
her eyes to adjust to the dim interior, but fortunately, the
windows in the front and on the side were big enough to let the
sunlight in.

Her gaze roamed the
packed recesses of the store. Talk about your original one-stop
shop. Hardware, bulk foods, canned goods, games, and all sorts of
paraphernalia were deposited in every nook and cranny. The building
was large yet claustrophobic at the same time.

Farm implements lined
the far wall, shelves were built into every available space, and
items were stacked in the middle of the floor, piled on sideboards
and counters, and heaped on shelves. Barrels and bins were situated
throughout. Brooms, kerosene lanterns, canteens, baskets, and more
hung from hooks in the ceiling.

The place smelled of
vinegar and pickles. She’d actually been in the store when she’d
looked for a job, but at the time hadn’t paid much attention to her
surroundings.

It was so different
from any establishment in the future. In terms of quantity, there
was probably much less than what she was used to, but the
merchandise was so packed in, there seemed to be a huge assortment
to chose from.

A woman, her husband,
and two little girls dressed in frilly frocks and bonnets were the
only other customers in the store. The woman wore a day dress with
a high neckline and collar, puffed shoulders, fitted sleeves and
the ever-present bustle. Her hat, sporting a large white feather,
completed the outfit. She looked at Melissa, her gaze roaming up
and down before she turned away.

Melissa ran a hand
through her short hair and wished for some gel as she moved away
from the door. The implied criticism didn’t seem to sting as much
anymore. Perhaps because she knew she was getting new clothes
today.

Product-filled glass
jars and a cash register covered a long counter that ran along one
wall. A glass cabinet on one side held guns, ammunition and a few
other items. Behind the counter were shelves and, she belatedly
realized, a smiling man; the shopkeeper, hiding amidst his
wares.

The tall, skinny
proprietor wore a white shirt with a high collar, and rolled-up
sleeves that revealed thin forearms. He sported an apron, tie, and
greased-back thick black hair; the very man who’d refused her
employment. His prominent adam’s apple bobbed. “Hello, can I help
you folks with anything?”

“No, thanks.” Melissa
spotted material against the far wall and made a beeline for it.
Wool, cotton, linen, calico, and silk. Seven cents a yard up to
twenty-three cents a yard. Out on the ranch she wouldn’t have any
need for the expensive fabric. But some of the midrange would suit
her very nicely. It was priced at twelve cents a yard. She felt
rich, rich, rich!

There were some
strange, colored advertisements on the wall, smaller than
postcards, for thread and sewing machines. One pictured a
prospector calmly smoking a pipe as a bear, tied to a tree with a
piece of thread, tried to charge him. The thread was too strong for
the bear to break. She shook her head at the silly attempt at
advertising. Amateurs.

Another ad depicted a
huge spool of thread, and an old woman fast asleep in a rocking
chair. A little girl leaned in through a window and tried to poke
the granny in the eye with a needle. Nineteenth century humor?
Amused, Melissa blew out a breath. These people needed serious
help.

She glanced once more
at the material, then at the list Emma had helped make. Excitement
thrummed though her. She needed to get the necessary shopping done
first, then she’d know how much money was left so she could figure
out the amount of material, thread, and accessories she could
buy.

She and Richard had
already decided they needed to have a minimum of five dollars left
over for emergencies. She never wanted to be without cash again. So
the twenty-five dollars needed to be stretched as far as
possible.

She looked over the
list: flour, sugar, oats, beans, rice, baking powder, yeast,
vanilla, canned goods, coffee, salt, spices, vinegar, molasses,
kerosene, boots for Richard and Jeremy, and--she grimaced at the
last item--lard. Melissa had argued, but Emma had insisted.
Apparently, one couldn’t make proper biscuits without it.

Melissa glanced around,
but didn’t see what she was looking for. She walked over to where
Richard studied a display. “Richard,” Melissa whispered. “Do you
see any flour?”

Eyes shining, Richard
glanced around. “I don’t. But look at this.” He ran his finger over
some fishing tackle, pinned to a strip of cloth on the wall.

Melissa made a derisive
noise and turned away. Some help he was going to be. Apparently
Richard was as clueless as she was when it came to shopping. She
should have gone with the other women.

The storekeeper came
around the counter, his smile ingratiating. “Can I be of some
assistance?” He held out a hand for the list.

Melissa raised a brow
and pressed the paper to her chest. Did the guy think she was
handing it over to him? She needed to look things over, and
carefully consider the best way to spend what little they had. “I’m
fine.”

The storekeeper dropped
his hand, a look of surprise on his face. He glanced at Richard.
“You’re new in town?

Richard dragged his
gaze from the fishing poles. “Oh, sorry.” He replaced a pole and
offered his hand. “I’m Richard Kendal, and this is my wife, Mrs.
Kendal,” he pointed over a few stacks of inventory to where the
kids were looking at toys. “And our children Jeremy and
Jessica.”

Jeremy had ducked down
to look at something, but Jessica lifted a hand in greeting.

The storekeeper shook
Richard’s hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Tim Harvey. I understand
your wife threw Curly Jenkins to the ground over at the saloon.
Flipped him right over.” His gaze slid over Melissa with
admiration.

Melissa let out a long
sigh.

Richard chuckled.
“Heard about that, did you?” Richard continued the conversation as
Melissa drifted away.

Some items were priced,
and some weren’t; very frustrating. A few minutes later Mr. Harvey
poked his head around the corner as Melissa set down the can of
beans she’d been examining. She glanced at the sardines, oysters
and peaches.

Mr. Harvey cleared his
throat. “You looking for anything in particular? Can I help you
find something?”

She needed to figure
out how much the food cost, see what she could afford, and make a
plan. “How much for the beans?”

“Five cents.”

Melissa tried not to
gloat; their money would stretch far.

She continued to
browse, trying to ignore the staring storekeeper, and her gaze
wandered to a display of shoes in front of the middle window.
Richard and Jeremy needed work boots. She checked for prices.
Nothing. She turned to the shopkeeper who still watched her. “How
much are the boots?”

“Three dollars.”

“Three dollars? Isn’t
that a little pricy?” As soon as the words left her mouth, Melissa
chuckled. She was used to spending more to buy fast food kids
meals.

The shopkeeper shrugged
defensively. “That’s the cost.”

“Jeremy, come see if
you like any of these boots.”

Jeremy came to look at
the display. “As if.”

Melissa smiled. “Well,
try them on and see if they fit anyway.” She plucked some stockings
off a nearby shelf and handed them to Jeremy.

With a sigh, Jeremy sat
on the floor and tried on boots. Behind Melissa the little girls
begged for candy. Loudly. The mother adamantly refused, however,
the father opened the lid on one of the glass jars on the counter
and showed two sticks of candy to the proprietor, and gave the
girls the treat.

The couple started to
argue. Apparently, Mom didn’t want them to have candy.

The storekeeper needed
to Feng Shui the place. It was too dark and dreary; too crowded. He
really should have hired her.

Mr. Harvey was staring
again and acting antsy. “If I could just see your list? Perhaps I
might be of some service?”

What was with the guy?
“No, thanks.”

Jessica showed her a
slingshot. “Look, Mom. Can I have one?”

Melissa turned to the
shopkeeper, “How much?”

“Fifty cents.”

Richard was looking at
a gun in the glass cabinet. “How much for this?”

“Twenty dollars. And
I’ll throw in some ammunition.”

Melissa could see
Richard really wanted the gun and suddenly she didn’t feel so rich
anymore. The twenty-five dollars wasn’t stretching as far as she’d
like.

The other couple
signaled to Mr. Harvey who went to help them.

Melissa motioned to
Richard. “Come and try on some boots.”

Reluctantly Richard
left the gun cabinet and did as she asked.

The shopkeeper finished
helping the other family and they left.

She looked at her list
again: flour. She still hadn’t seen any bags. Finally, she
conceded; she might as well let the guy help. It looked like he
would dog her footsteps until she let him.

When Mr. Harvey walked
over again, she handed over the list. He took it with alacrity,
scanned it and immediately started to pile supplies on the
counter.

Melissa wandered back
to the bolts of material. She studied each piece, and looked at the
thread, the needles, and some scissors she couldn’t afford.

She needed material to
make shirts for Richard and Jeremy, and they both needed a pair of
trousers.

Her hands ran over some
material that would make the most beautiful dress. She touched
another and styles and ideas flashed into her mind; a day dress, a
fancy dress, a work dress, and an evening gown.

There was a pattern
book on the table in front of the material. She looked at the
designs and allowed herself to gloat. Her ideas were better.

The cash register
started jangling and Melissa turned. She studied the supplies on
the counter, suddenly worried. There seemed to be a lot.

A few minutes later
Harvey looked up. “Okay, folks. Do you have eggs or butter to
trade?”

Melissa shook her
head.

“No? Then your
purchases will come to twenty-six dollars. And I’ll throw in a
couple of sticks of candy for the kids.” He grinned.

Smiling, the kids took
the candy.

“Twenty six dollars?”
She looked at the material and quickly calculated. If she chose the
most inexpensive fabric for shirts for the guys--and didn’t make
any trousers, and Jessica could probably get by without a new
dress--plus the cost of the thread and needles. She quickly
recalculated. She only had enough for one dress.

Only one.

And of course, no money
left over. No savings.

Intense disappointed beat at her. She
needed
new clothes.

She looked at their
purchases, piled on the counter. Should she put something back? But
what? She looked at the slingshot. At Jeremy’s boots.

She sighed. One dress
would have to be enough.

She turned to Mr.
Harvey. “I just need a few more things. And a little material.”

She met Richard’s
gaze.

He looked sympathetic,
and that’s what nearly did her in. She willed back tears, shrugged
and turned to choose, trying to ignore the fact that when they
walked out of the store they’d be penniless again.

“Oh, goodness. Look at
this one,” said Sarah. Her voice held awe as she lifted one of
Melissa’s sketches for the other ladies to see. “I love the large
ribbon and bow at the waist.”

Melissa’s attention
slid to her neighbors, gathered around Sarah’s table, and she tried
not to preen as she took in the Cowboy Wives astonished
expressions.

Emma’s eyes widened. “No bustle? And the sleeves are so
puffed. Oh, I wouldn’t
dare
wear that to the picnic.”

Amused by Emma’s
ignorance, Melissa grinned. “Trust me. You’d be the most
fashionable lady there.”

Amanda lifted a brow.
“Or the most laughed at.”

Melissa shook her head.
“I know fashion. The other women will run home and copy the
gown.”

The ladies passed
around Melissa’s eleven sketches and consulted the Godey’s Lady’s
Book, their fashion bible, and several other pattern books that lay
open on the table.

Melissa tried to tone
down her smile so she wasn’t grinning like the Cheshire Cat, but it
wasn’t easy. She had material! Granted, the selection at the
general store hadn’t been huge, and she’d had to settle for a
pastel blue cotton, not something she would normally wear, but
still, excitement buzzed though her.

Sarah held up another
sketch. “Oh, look at this one.”

Amanda’s face lit and
she reverently took the sketch, a design with leg-o-mutton sleeves
and a bell-like skirt that wouldn’t be in style for at least ten
years. “It’s so beautiful.” She glanced at Melissa then back at the
sketch. “You’re very talented.”

“Thanks.” Melissa tried
to tone down another cat-ate-the-cream grin attempting to
escape.

Emma clapped, and a
squeal bubbled out. “I just can’t wait! The picnic will be such
fun!”

Melissa chuckled at
Emma’s Mary Poppins impression; these ladies were starting to grow
on her.

A determined glint in
her eye, Amanda held up the sketch.

“Will you show me how
to cut this out?”

Sarah’s eyes glowed
with excitement. “Amanda, would you dare?”

Amanda bit her lip.
“With a bustle?”

Melissa mouth curved.
“Do my chores while I’m sewing, and I’ll make it for you.”