Diamond Buckow by A. J. Arnold

of merchandise, but dimly lit. Buck couldn’t see anybody, but when he stopped to look through a pile of shirts, he heard voices in the back. As he went in that direction, a woman came out of the rear room. Her head was turned away from him as she talked to someone behind the partition.
    â€œThank you,” she said. “I’ll come next week to see if it’s in yet.”
    When she noticed Buck, she started. “Oh, I didn’t hear you come in. I mean, I thought the ladies’ clerk and I were alone. The girl in back said Mr. and Mrs. Henderson have gone out to eat, so if you want something, you’ll have to see her.”
    That he was in the right place registered, but not as much as Buck’s surprise at seeing another pretty girl. Only this time, he vowed, he wouldn’t let himself stand there like a speechless scarecrow.
    â€œSorry if I startled you, Miss,” he smiled. “But I assure you I’m harmless, especially to such an attractive lady.”
    He quickly removed his hat and thought that this was some town, where he could meet two young women the same day. But this one here was sure different from Sarah. Her hair was just the color of the honey Ma used to set on the table. She wasn’t anywhere near as tall as Sarah, either, but she filled out her dress a sight better.
    The woman’s astonished look changed to a wide grin of amusement at Buck’s brashness.
    â€œIt’s not Miss, it’s Mrs.—Mrs. Henry Blough.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” he blurted, so obviously distressed that she laughed out loud.
    â€œIt’s not the end of the world, you know. There are other girls.”
    â€œYes, Ma’am,” Buck answered, hot with embarrassment.
    â€œI didn’t mean it that way. What I meant was—well, you see, I don’t get to talk much with ladies. I been out on the trail three months, and—well, I guess I’m not much at saying what I aim to.”
    Mrs. Blough stared at him with direct and forthright brown eyes.
    â€œAnd what was it you were trying to say?”
    My God, Buck groaned inwardly. What was wrong with him? He’d talked with lots of married women before. Trouble was, this one looked too young.
    Wanting to sound worldly, he rattled on, revealing more than he intended.
    â€œWell, Ma’ am, I just wanted to talk to you without freezing up. I did that this afternoon: I met a girl in the restaurant that I wanted to talk to. I heard her voice and I looked her right in the eye, but I couldn’t hardly get a single word out. That’s why I came in here, matter-of-fact. Thought maybe I’d find her. And then, of course, I got to get some new clothes so I’ll look better.”
    A mischievous twinkle brightened Mrs. Blough’s earthy eyes. “I’m sure that won’t hurt. But west of the Mississippi, we’re used to men in worn clothing. If she’s been around this territory any length of time, I doubt your clothes will make much difference.”
    â€œI also need a job,” he ventured, “and so I’ll need more to wear if I go to some outlying ranch.”
    Buck gulped and took a deep breath. He wondered why in hell he couldn’t stop jabbering. Couldn’t much open his mouth to Sarah, and couldn’t seem to shut it to this Blough lady.
    She smiled again. “Why don’t you just go up to that partition and say you’d like to buy something? I’m sure you’ll get service in a hurry.”
    The woman moved to leave, and Buck watched her rhythmic, springy steps go the length of the board floor. She was older than Sarah, he observed, and maybe even a little older than he was. Oh, well. She seemed nice enough, and fairly happy for a married person.
    Mrs. Blough paused at the front door, turning to study Buck.
    â€œYoung man. If you’re serious about a job, and don’t mind hard work, you might ride out and talk to my husband. We have a