Afternoon sunlight slanted through the store's front windows. Three hours until closing. Main Street had been slow today.
Melody had kept her head down in the week since the disastrous New Year's Eve party and early morning non-injury. Too afraid to humiliate herself again.
She'd changed her running route, even though her normal, non-holiday schedule meant getting up to run at five a.m. before opening the store.
She hadn't had a chance to talk with Anna and Lila since the party, which was probably a blessing. Anna had been busy getting Mikey back into his school schedule and juggling wedding plans. Lila had been called on by the county to rescue a horse and had been scarce.
The bell over the front door jangled, and she looked up from the inventory report she'd been reconciling.
"Claire. Hi!"
"Hi." The teen came slowly over the threshold, looking around avidly, almost shyly.
Melody was proud of what she'd done with the store. It wasn't huge, but the wall racks and freestanding floor racks showed off the trendy clothes to their best advantage. The glass counter had a small selection of mid-range specialized jewelry locked inside, and a few smaller displays of costume jewelry took up space throughout the store.
Chase ducked through the door behind Claire with a second jangle of the bell.
"Hi, there!" Melody said in surprise.
Chase only grunted. Although she couldn't hide how her gaze tracked the room like her sister's had. Same as the last time she'd seen them, they were dressed completely differently. Claire wore a trendy sweater, a cute knee-length skirt, and tall boots. Chase had on a baggy T-shirt and baggy jeans.
"What's up, you two?"
"Just hanging out after school."
A glance at the clock. She hadn't realized it was late enough in the day for school to have let out, but it was almost four.
Don't ask, don't ask.
"How's your brother?" The words slipped out anyway, much to Melody's consternation.
Chase looked over her shoulder from where she played with a counter display of beaded bracelets. "Why do you want to know?"
Claire glared at her sister, pink rising in her cheeks. She offered an apologetic smile to Melody. "He had a meeting in Oklahoma City today. He'll be back by dinnertime."
She didn't even know what he did. Or why he'd come to Redbud Trails.
She watched Claire pass Chase, whispering something that Melody couldn't hear. Chase shook her head tightly. Claire circled several clothing racks and then moved close to the navy dress in the window display—the same one that she'd gushed over the night of the party.
"So what brings you in today?" Melody asked. "Seems like I heard there was a school dance coming up...?"
She'd been thrilled when a couple of other teenage girls had come in during the week and bought dresses to wear to the Valentine's Day dance. The fact that they'd shopped local and not gone down to Oklahoma City made her proud of the work she was doing. And she needed a little confidence booster after a mid-week phone call with her mother that had left her feeling down.
"Are you two going to the dance?"
Chase snorted, but Claire shot her another glare, then turned back to the rack of belts she was examining.
"Maybe...I don't know," Claire said.
"She wants Eli to ask her." Chase offered. Melody might have thought the girl was finally warming up to her—she had no idea why Chase was so cool toward her—if not for the one-up look Chase sent her sister.
Color rose in Claire's cheeks, but she didn't deny it. "Well, you'd like it if Jeremy Warren asked you."
Chase glowered.
Melody moved away from the counter and approached Claire where she stood gazing at the dress. The price tag that had previously been artfully tucked in the armpit dangled free. Claire must've looked at it.
"I still have an opening for a part time cashier," she said softly.
"Weston said I could get a job."
"He didn't say you could get this job," Chase muttered.
Melody ignored her, unable to deny the joy shining on Claire's face. "Hang on."
She went behind the counter, pulled out a blank employment application, and pushed it across the glass-topped counter to the girl. "Fill this out. I looked online. This is the form the school will have to sign. If your brother agrees, you can start on Monday."
Claire leaned across and threw her arms around Melody.
The edge of the counter cut into Melody's ribs, but she patted the girl's back.
She well remembered those tumultuous times, as well as what her parents had done to her. She would give the girl a chance.
If Weston agreed.
Thursday evening, Melody counted the beaded bracelets on the countertop display for the third time. Thirty-two.
But the printed thirty-four still glared up at her from the inventory list lying face up next to the display. She made a practice of taking inventory once per quarter. Not only did it help with the books at year end, but when she reviewed the sales reports, it helped her see trends in what her customers were buying.
She'd always found misplaced items before. Sometimes customers carried clothing into another part of the store. Sometimes things fell behind the counter.
But she'd already scoured the store and straightened up, thanks to a slow afternoon.
She'd never had anything walk out of the store before.
The bell over the door jangled, and she looked up at the clock over the back counter. Five minutes until closing. Just what she needed, a last minute browser when she was already frustrated by two missing bracelets.
But when she turned to face the customer, she found instead a broad-shouldered cowboy with his feet apparently glued to the welcome mat just inside the doors.
Weston.
His eyes flicked around, taking in the displays.
"Hey," she greeted.
His eyes came to rest on her, and one corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile. "Blue?"
One hand came to her hair, a flare of self-consciousness taking her by surprise. She forced her hand back down to rest on the counter.
She wasn't ashamed. She liked being able to do her hair how she wanted.
"The pink was starting to wash out," she said. Which was partially true. Her plain-Jane brown roots had started showing, and she'd had to re-dye the blonde. She liked being a blonde. They had more fun, right? Weston had been on her mind when she'd added the blue streak to her bangs.
"What can I do for you?"
He held up a piece of white paper, folded lengthwise.
She raised her eyebrows.
Finally, he started toward the register, skirting a rack of gauzy skirts like it was going to burn him.
"They're just clothes. They don't bite."
He leveled a look on her as he neared. "I spent the afternoon working in the barn. Don't want to get dust and who-knows-what all over your pretty things."
She appreciated that, though his T-shirt and faded jeans didn't appear dirty. The look on his face told her it was more than that. The frilly girl things made him uncomfortable. Out of his element.
At least he thought they were pretty. Not that that translated to him thinking she was pretty.
"Claire seemed to think I had to be the one to drop this off to you." He laid the paper on the counter in front of her.
Their hands brushed as she reached for it, and he jumped. Actually jumped. As if he couldn't stand the feel of her.
Piqued, she forced her gaze to stick to the paper and stay away from the man. It was the application, of course. Why else would he be in her store?
"Great," she said past the knot in her throat. "I told her she could start Monday. Is two hours on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays too much?"
"It sounds all right, as long as her schoolwork doesn't suffer."
She nodded, her eyes still on the counter. Expecting him to leave.
He didn't. She could feel the weight of his gaze on the top of her head. It prickled.
Finally he stepped back from the counter and she lifted her gaze. She couldn't read the look on his face.
"You sure you want Claire to work here?"
"Any reason I shouldn't?" Unwittingly, her mind went to those two missing bracelets. Claire and Chase had stood shoulder-to-shoulder next to the display before.
He shrugged. "She has no experience."
She remembered the girl's anticipation and the joy that had lit her face. "Everyone has to start somewhere, right?"
He took another long look around the store, his expression perplexed.
"Do you have a problem with my store?"
His eyes cut back to her. "Why would I?"
She kept her chin high. "I don't know." Maybe because he seemed to have a problem with her since the night they'd met. "You keep looking around like some of the clothes are going to jump off the rack and attack you or something."
That corner of his mouth lifted again—what would it take to earn a full-blown smile from the man?—and he stuck his hands in his front pockets.
"I guess I just don't get it."
"Don't get what?"
"Fashion. I mean...you look fine."
Fine. She looked down at her slim pencil skirt and sweater, which was brand new in her stock this year. Even her chunky heels and the clunky necklace had been chosen with care. Fine.
"I sell all of these pieces," she said, because she didn't know what to say. Why was he still here? Just to torture her? Embarrass her more?
His lips flatlined. He pushed a hand back through his hair. "Maybe I don't understand them."
Her brows raised this time.
He flapped one hand awkwardly in front of himself. "You. Women. The twins."
His consternation was so adorable that she could almost forgive him for declaring her simply fine.
"They're teenage girls." She stated the obvious. "They aren't meant to be understood. You just have to survive it."
Her words didn't seem to help. And then her curiosity got the better of her. "How did you come to be their guardian anyway?"
"Our mom had to go to rehab. I didn't know she'd been overdoing it on pain meds again until Chase called me, freaking out. She didn't want to go into the foster system."
Oh. She'd had no idea. "I don't blame her." Maybe that explained some of the girl's standoffishness. "So you came back to town. How long had you been gone?"
A muscle in his jaw ticked. "You mean you don't know the whole sordid story?"
Weston stuffed his hands back in his front pockets. He'd been shopping with girlfriends plenty of times, but he'd never felt as uncomfortable as he did right now, surrounded by Melody's stock.
Or maybe it was the look in her eyes.
She didn't know about his past.
So what had prompted her invitation at the New Years' party? Just looking for a fun time. He'd thought...
He shook those memories away. "I left town right out of high school."
"And haven't been back since?"
He nodded.
He didn't know why she'd taken an interest in Claire, but since she'd met Melody, his sister had gone from moody and quiet to bubbly and more like the little sister he remembered.
He should've spent more time with the girls. Had them down to the city more. He'd had good reason to stay away from Redbud Trails, but that shouldn't have meant he stayed way from his sisters.
He was still raw from the meeting with Ezra Warren earlier in the afternoon. Claire had needed a representative of the school to grant permission for her to work at the dress shop. It shouldn't have been a big deal, but Eve's brother had treated Weston with such contempt that he'd nearly lost his temper and slugged the guy.
After that, he'd sat in his truck in the parking lot for twenty minutes, trying to shake off the old despair. And the knowledge that Eve had never come clean with her family. Her brother—and probably her parents—still thought he was the loser who'd knocked her up.
He was tired of it all.
He realized he'd zoned out from Melody's last question. "Sorry." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's been a long day."
She nodded, the smile she'd greeted him with now dimmed. "For me too. I was just wrapping up."
She moved toward the door, and he followed, aware of the brush of her shoulder against his bicep. He looked down on that piece of blue hair.
And had to remind himself that she was off-limits. She was Redbud Trails.
He wasn't.
As they approached the windows, he motioned to his motorcycle, parked at the curb. "You need a ride home?"
Her eyes flicked to it, and her brows lifted slightly. She shook her head.
"Riding a motorcycle isn't on your list?"
Now her eyes cut to his face. She shrugged. Shy, or had something he'd said earlier upset her?
"You scheduled that marathon yet?" he asked.
She bit her lip. "Not yet."
He gave another nod to the motorcycle. "So do you want to check something off your list today or what?"
She clicked the lock with a decisive thump. With him still on the inside. "I'll get my coat. Be right back."
She disappeared into what must be a storeroom in the back.
Leaving him with his heart thundering like he was back in high school again. He could only hope this wasn't a mistake.