their fancy?”
She pointed to an assortment of books stacked in the far corner. “Those odds and ends have been sitting on the shelves for years. We should offer them at a bargain price. Put a sign in the window and invite people in to browse. Even if they sell for only a dime, that’s a dime more than you’re earning while they sit here collecting dust.”
He grinned, admiration and hope shining in his eyes. “Mercy’s sakes, where did all these ideas come from?”
“I want the shop to succeed. It would break my heart if it closed. Yours too.”
He thought for a moment. “All right. Go ahead and organize your book society. Who knows? It might be just the ticket to get things moving again.”
She clapped her hands and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “I was sure you’d say yes. Come and see what I’ve done with the old storeroom.”
She took his hand and led him to the small space at the rear of the shop.
“Holy cats.” He looked around, clearly surprised at the changes she made.
She had brought in the rocking chair from the front room and placed it next to the small window overlooking the railway station and the mountains. A couple of plump pillows in shades of pink and blue were stacked on the floor next to a basket brimming with children’s books, including a leather-bound volume of fairy tales and an elaborately illustrated copy of Two Hungry Kittens . “It’s for the children of my book society ladies,” Carrie said. “They can read and play in here while we talk.”
“They’ll enjoy it, I’m sure.” He squeezed her hand. “Thank you, my love. I only hope—”
The bell above the door jingled. “Hello? Is anyone here?”
Carrie’s heart stumbled. “Mr. Rutledge?”
She and Nate returned to the front of the store. Nate nodded. “May I help you?”
Griff smiled. “Actually it’s Mrs. Daly I came to see. They told me at the hotel that you’re working here now.”
Carrie rubbed the bony protrusion at her wrist. “Yes. I—that is, Mr. Chastain bought out another store, and I . . .”
Heavenly days. Why did being around Griff Rutledge make her feel as tongue-tied as a silly schoolgirl? “I’m helping to organize things.”
“And doing a fine job of it from what I can see.” Griff swept his arm past the tidy shelves and her hand-lettered signs organizing the books by subject, from Architecture to Zoology.
She blushed, pleased at his compliment, and hoped Nate didn’t notice the color rising in her cheeks. “There’s still a lot to do, especially now that I intend to start a book discussion society. The shop is keeping me very busy these days.”
“Not too busy to accompany me to the Gilmans’ place tomorrow, I hope.”
Nate frowned. “Whatever for, Mr. Rutledge?”
“I thought she might like to see how Majestic’s training is coming along.” He turned to Carrie. “He’s settled down considerably since the day he nearly ran you down.”
“Oh, I would like—”
“She doesn’t have time. Unlike other people who gallivant around the county at will, we have a job to do here.” Nate grabbed a dust rag and attacked the same counter Carrie had polished earlier in the day.
“Of course,” the horse tamer said. “But all the same, I think the lady should make up her own mind.”
Carrie swallowed her growing irritation at Nate. How dare he speak for her as if she were a child? But it wouldn’t do to make a scene. She smiled at Griff. “Mr. Chastain is right. I’m afraid I’m much too busy at the moment. But I hope you’ll visit the shop again and let us know how Majestic is getting on.”
“Wait till you see him race.”
“I’m looking forward to it. As we all are in Hickory Ridge.”
“Well then,” Nate said. “If there’s nothing more we can do for you, Mr.—”
“I’ll be on my way.” Griff offered her a slight nod. “Another time perhaps, Mrs. Daly.”
He let himself out.
Nate pulled out his pocket watch. “It’s nearly five.
She pointed to an assortment of books stacked in the far corner. “Those odds and ends have been sitting on the shelves for years. We should offer them at a bargain price. Put a sign in the window and invite people in to browse. Even if they sell for only a dime, that’s a dime more than you’re earning while they sit here collecting dust.”
He grinned, admiration and hope shining in his eyes. “Mercy’s sakes, where did all these ideas come from?”
“I want the shop to succeed. It would break my heart if it closed. Yours too.”
He thought for a moment. “All right. Go ahead and organize your book society. Who knows? It might be just the ticket to get things moving again.”
She clapped her hands and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “I was sure you’d say yes. Come and see what I’ve done with the old storeroom.”
She took his hand and led him to the small space at the rear of the shop.
“Holy cats.” He looked around, clearly surprised at the changes she made.
She had brought in the rocking chair from the front room and placed it next to the small window overlooking the railway station and the mountains. A couple of plump pillows in shades of pink and blue were stacked on the floor next to a basket brimming with children’s books, including a leather-bound volume of fairy tales and an elaborately illustrated copy of Two Hungry Kittens . “It’s for the children of my book society ladies,” Carrie said. “They can read and play in here while we talk.”
“They’ll enjoy it, I’m sure.” He squeezed her hand. “Thank you, my love. I only hope—”
The bell above the door jingled. “Hello? Is anyone here?”
Carrie’s heart stumbled. “Mr. Rutledge?”
She and Nate returned to the front of the store. Nate nodded. “May I help you?”
Griff smiled. “Actually it’s Mrs. Daly I came to see. They told me at the hotel that you’re working here now.”
Carrie rubbed the bony protrusion at her wrist. “Yes. I—that is, Mr. Chastain bought out another store, and I . . .”
Heavenly days. Why did being around Griff Rutledge make her feel as tongue-tied as a silly schoolgirl? “I’m helping to organize things.”
“And doing a fine job of it from what I can see.” Griff swept his arm past the tidy shelves and her hand-lettered signs organizing the books by subject, from Architecture to Zoology.
She blushed, pleased at his compliment, and hoped Nate didn’t notice the color rising in her cheeks. “There’s still a lot to do, especially now that I intend to start a book discussion society. The shop is keeping me very busy these days.”
“Not too busy to accompany me to the Gilmans’ place tomorrow, I hope.”
Nate frowned. “Whatever for, Mr. Rutledge?”
“I thought she might like to see how Majestic’s training is coming along.” He turned to Carrie. “He’s settled down considerably since the day he nearly ran you down.”
“Oh, I would like—”
“She doesn’t have time. Unlike other people who gallivant around the county at will, we have a job to do here.” Nate grabbed a dust rag and attacked the same counter Carrie had polished earlier in the day.
“Of course,” the horse tamer said. “But all the same, I think the lady should make up her own mind.”
Carrie swallowed her growing irritation at Nate. How dare he speak for her as if she were a child? But it wouldn’t do to make a scene. She smiled at Griff. “Mr. Chastain is right. I’m afraid I’m much too busy at the moment. But I hope you’ll visit the shop again and let us know how Majestic is getting on.”
“Wait till you see him race.”
“I’m looking forward to it. As we all are in Hickory Ridge.”
“Well then,” Nate said. “If there’s nothing more we can do for you, Mr.—”
“I’ll be on my way.” Griff offered her a slight nod. “Another time perhaps, Mrs. Daly.”
He let himself out.
Nate pulled out his pocket watch. “It’s nearly five.
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