“You don’t want to sell?” Mitch asked.
“No, I don’t. My pa worked hard to build that ranch. I still can’t believe Clay spent all the money. I can’t figure what he did. He didn’t buy new stock with it or make improvements on the ranch. It’s like the money vanished into thin air. I came to Ford today to see if it was true. That we were really busted.” She sighed. “I guess I won’t be able to find an answer to where the money disappeared to or solve Clay’s murder. I’ll be leaving soon.”
“Leaving?” Mitch sat straight up in his chair. He didn’t like the sound of that. No, he did not.
“In his will, Pa listed two guardians. If something happened to Clay, my Uncle Ted assumed the role. That damned lawyer said he would telegraph him right away and tell him to come collect me.” She glared at her uneaten pie. “Damn, but I feel like a piece of property, and I don’t like it, and,” she drew the word out long and low, “I still plan to find Clay’s killer. I suppose I can hire a private detective.”
Mitch didn’t bother telling her not to swear. She hadn’t paid attention anyway. He shifted in his seat. He hated to see her go. That was a stone-cold fact.
“Where does your Uncle Ted live?” Mitch asked.
“About thirty miles south of San Francisco,” she replied. “He’s all right, but I don’t want to go. I’ve lived here my whole life. It’s home, and I have a murder to solve.”
They sat in silence. Her misery vibrated like a violin string.
“They got you roped up tighter than a cow at branding,” Mitch stated. “I wish I could help, but I don’t see how.”
Melody slapped her hands on the table. Her eyes glowed like she’d swallowed a candle. She studied the table, then gazed over his left shoulder.
“You really want to help me?” Melody asked.
“I do,” he replied.
Some kind of idea was rolling around in that pretty head of hers. He could see it churning back and forth behind her eyes.
“Weeeell,” she drew the word out like pulling taffy. “You could marry me,” Melody threw the words like loaded dice.
“Marry you?” Mitch sputtered and returned his cup to the table with a clatter.
Melody held her hands toward him palm out as if to freeze him in his tracks. “Not a real marriage, Mitch, not a real one.” Her voice was a speeding train headed for a sharp curve. “One in, oh, what do they call it? Marriage in name only. That’s it. Name only. A marriage of convenience.” She skidded to a stop.
“That doesn’t sound very convenient, if you ask me,” Mitch peered at her through squinted eyes.
Melody’s shoulders sank to new lows. “I know. You’re right. I’m sorry.” She dropped her hands to her lap. “It was a bad idea.”
Mitch studied the girl long and hard. Truth was, he’d considered marriage. He shared a ranch with two families, and they made it look mighty inviting. Kids running about and babies being born. Sometimes he felt a might left out. And… Melody called to him in the primal way of things. She was tall and slim, but womanly. Definitely womanly. Those hazel eyes looked clear through him in a way that made his heart pound and other parts too if he was honest. He’d been thinking about those honey blonde curls she had corralled at the back of her head. He’d like to remove a pin or two and see them tumble down her back. Did it reach her bottom? He’d like to find out. But, marriage in name only. He wasn’t sold on that idea.
“Since Clay was killed, I’ve been at my wits’ end. The sheriff wouldn’t help me. The bank account’s empty; I can’t get my trust. I don’t want to leave the Bar W, but I am not to have a say in the matter. I might as well be a suitcase or a bag of apples.” She snorted. “But I have no right to involve you. I’ll think of another way.” She pushed her uneaten pie to the center of the table and began to rise.
“Whoa, there,” Mitch motioned her back into her chair. “It’s possible. It’s a pretty unlikely start, but if we do what you suggest, if we marry, I have some conditions.”
Melody shifted in her seat. “What kind of conditions?” she asked.
He held up a single finger. “First, we’ll stay married until the end of the year. That’s six months. Who knows? We might take to it. Two,” he added a finger to his tally, “we’ll live in my house at Journey’s End. I won’t have you live alone on your ranch with a killer on the loose. Three,” another finger joined the count, “I’ll help you investigate your brother’s murder, but you will do it my way, no questions asked.”
“No questions asked?” she spluttered. He saw the storm brewing behind her eyes and held up a hand to ward it off.
“You’d need to trust me, Melody. The search for a killer will be dangerous.” He waited until she rewarded him with a small nod. “You’ll be my wife. As long as you’re wearing my name, you’ll behave as such. It will be my job, my pleasure, to protect and provide for you. It’s no one’s business but our own whether or not we share a bed. You can rest easy. I’ve never forced a woman, and I don’t plan to start with my wife.” He waited until she settled a bit. “Also, the women at Journey’s End have some rules that they follow. I’d expect you to adhere to them.”
“I’m not much for following rules. My pa said I never saw a rule I couldn’t find my way around.” Melody gave a rueful laugh and a shrug. “What are these rules?”
“Well, the most important rule is not to put yourself in danger. Another is no swearing,” Mitch continued. “There are children at Journey’s End, and ladies don’t swear.” He gazed at her through squinted, thoughtful eyes. “You have one firecracker of a temper. You would need to control it, or I would help you learn to rein it in.”
“What happens if a rule is broken?”
“The husband of the lady in question takes his wife over his knee, drops her bloomers to the floor, and spanks her bare bottom until it glows a flaming red. I haven’t had a wife of my own to spank, but I’ve heard the caterwauling coming from the other houses a time or two.”
“You’d spank me?” Indignation dripped from her words like sap from a tree.
“If you deserved it, I surely would.” He sat still while her mind clicked and whirled like a roulette wheel run amok.
“If I didn’t break a rule, no spanking,” she clarified.
“Right,” he replied and resumed his waiting. He didn’t see much hope for Melody to avoid a spanking. She had the slightest hold on her temper and no control over her vocabulary. But he was a fair man. No rules broken. No spanking.
“I want to be a partner in the murder investigation. You won’t leave me out.” Melody crossed her arms under her bosom and pursed her lips.
“As long as you don’t put yourself in danger, you can be involved,” he affirmed.
“You’ll really marry me?” she asked. “You’ll help me find Clay’s killer?”
“I will,” Mitch affirmed. “As long as you agree to my conditions and the rules. As long as you understand the consequences.”
Her intelligent eyes regarded him thoughtfully.
“All right. I’ll try to follow those rules for six months. No swearing, no danger, no temper. Right?” she asked. When Mitch nodded, she continued, “By then, my brother’s murderer will be found, and I’ll return to the Bar W.”
Mitch liked this little gal. She was a frisky one, but he didn’t want a woman without spirit. Six months was enough time for them to get to know each other. It was a strange courtship, but he thought he’d risk it.
Mitch pushed the dishes to the center of the table and tipped his head toward the besotted waitress. “Thank you, Sarah,” he called. He rose, pulled Melody’s chair out and offered her a hand. “We’ll stop by the sheriff’s office and bring him along as a witness. Sarah calls me deputy, but I only help out once or twice a month when the sheriff knows the cowboys are coming to town with money burning a hole in their pockets. Even then, I only arrest drunks and let them sleep it off. It brings a little extra cash to the ranch. My real work is at Journey’s End.”
“You can quit after
we get my money. It would give us more time to search for the killer,” Melody declared.
“No, ma’am.” Mitch gave his head a vigorous shake. “You can use that money for your ranch, but I aim to support my wife.”
“Don’t be silly.” Her exasperated laugh rankled up and down his spine. “We’ll be married in name only.”
“Melody,” he kept his voice even and low. “I already told you the lay of the land. I protect and provide. You try to follow the rules and not get spanked. We’ll look for the killer, but my way.”
He saw the flush of blood as it crept up her neck and continued to her cheeks. He knew that if the investigation were left up to her, she would barrel through town throwing accusations and knocking down doors. She was used to having her way, and he wasn’t at all sure she would let him take the lead. He shook his head. A ship can only have one captain, and in his house, that was him.
“Do you still want to marry me?” he asked. “Last chance to find another solution to your problems.”
Melody looked up and down the road as if a different groom, one with fewer rules, might suddenly appear in the dusty street. “Y-yes,” she stammered. The word a curious mix of reluctance and defiance.
“Let’s get hitched.” Mitch took hold of her upper arm and guided her down the stairs. They stopped to fetch the sheriff who was delighted and surprised in equal measure.
The preacher was in his house next to the church waiting for his supper. He escorted Mitch and Melody and the sheriff into his little parlor and called his wife from the kitchen to be the second witness.
“How long have you two known each other?” he asked.
“Not long,” Mitch answered, “but we know what we’re doing.”
The preacher gave Melody a long look, and she nodded her head.
He cleared his throat. “Dearly Beloved. We have come together to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony,” he intoned.
Mitch’s mind drifted right and left and up and down. He answered when asked, and, to his relief, so did Melody. He pulled a ring from his little finger and slid it onto her left hand when the moment came. It had belonged to his mother, and he liked to see it solid and strong on his wife’s hand.
The words he’d listened for were finally spoken, you may kiss your bride. Mitch gathered her to him with one arm and with the other he cradled her head. He adjusted her to his liking and dropped his mouth over hers. He tingled head to toe and blood rushed to his manhood. When she responded to his kiss he sang a silent Hallelujah, and nudged her lips open with his tongue.
The preacher coughed. The sheriff laughed. Mitch guessed it was time to end their first kiss much as he hated to. It might be a good piece down the road before he had another chance. He removed his hand from the back of her head but kept her firmly anchored to his side with the other. They needed to appear truly married, and he aimed to do his part.
“Thank you, Preacher.” Mitch dropped some coins into the minister’s hand. “Please use this as you see fit.”
“We wish you many years of happiness,” the preacher’s wife chirped.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Mitch replied. He took possession of Melody’s arm once more. “I think I’d best get my wife home.”
“Well, Mrs. McBride,” Mitch beamed a blinding smile, “we’ll tie your horse to the back of my wagon and head to Journey’s End.”
Six months, he rolled the number around in his mind. He had six months to catch a killer and woo a wife. He wasn’t sure which task would be the harder, but he planned to set his sights on both. He figured catching the killer would be his bride’s first priority. That was fine by him. He’d use that pursuit to further his own. Six months. He had six months to win his wife and make his marriage real in every way.
Before the new year began, he’d have her in his bed.
Chapter 3
Melody arranged her skirts and settled onto the wagon seat. She surveyed her new husband out of the corner of her eye. Damn. She hoped she hadn’t made the biggest mistake of her life. Pa always said she was too impulsive. The proverb stated, ‘look before you leap’, but she was a leaper first and a looker second.
Then there were those rules he’d listed. She didn’t follow rules; she broke them. Pa would give a snort and say, ‘I should give you a licking, but…’ that little threat would fade into nothing, and Melody went on her way. That’s what men did, she supposed. They’d strut and posture, but when all was said and done, Melody had her way. She figured Mitch would be the same. Might take a little wheedling, but she’d soon have him wrapped around her little finger. True, he’d sounded mighty serious when he ticked those rules off on his fingers, but she could handle him – a tearful apology and a sad face had worked on her pa every time. She needed that money to run the ranch. She needed a husband to get the money. She’d done what had to be done.
She aimed a dazzling smile at Mitch and leaned into his muscular arm. “Tell me about Journey’s End. Since I’ll be living there for a bit, I’d like to know what to expect.”
The wagon jolted into motion. Melody grabbed her groom’s arm to keep from falling backwards. She did like the feel of all that masculine muscle. It made her lightheaded. She gave herself a shake. Now stop that. She scolded. This marriage is not a real one. Don’t be a ninny.
Mitch guided the horses out of town and onto a less traveled road before replying. “Well, two families traveled here from Texas and bought one hundred acres. It had been a long and dangerous trip, so when they decided this was where they’d put down new roots, they named it Journey’s End. The men are brothers, Sven and Lars Nielson. You’ll laugh when you see them. They’re big blond Vikings.” A chuckle rumbled through his chest.
If she knew him better, she’d lay her hand on his chest to feel that little trembler of amusement.
“My sister, Ellie, is married to the younger brother, Lars. They have a daughter, Annika, who is a year. They live in the original cabin. It only has two bedrooms, which is enough for now. We figure we can add on as needed.” He gave the reins a little snap and the horses increased their pace. “We built Sven and Caroline a new house. It has a bedroom for them and two large bedrooms – one for boys and one for girls Sven said. So far they have Micah who is five. Mary is three, and the baby’s name is Jake. I don’t doubt they’ll field a baseball team before they’re through. Those kids are cute as buttons.”
“Where do you live?” she asked.
“Where will we live?” he corrected her. “I have a little house. It has two bedrooms, so don’t you worry none about that. The three houses make a kind of triangle with a big yard in the middle. We have a barn, woodshed, and Sven’s woodshop close by.”
“What does he make?”
“Sven can make near about anything: tables, chairs, bedsteads, rocking horses, trunks. Why, that man and a piece of wood are a marvel. He made all the furniture in the cabins. The two women do laundry together and share most all the chores and caring for the young ones. It would be mighty nice if you could help ease their load. Those two are awful busy. We eat together in the evening.” Mitch leaned forward and rested elbows on knees.
“How long have you lived at Journey’s End?” Melody enquired.
“Two years. I came to help my sister and stayed. I like it here. I like having family. I’d like to have one of my own someday,” he admitted. “Before we reach the ranch, I want to tell you how we’ll begin our search for your brother’s killer,” he said.
Melody squirmed on the seat. He was making plans without her already. Anger swelled in hot waves. How dare he? She’d just give him a thing or two to think about.
“Mitch, why would you make any kind of plan without talking to me first?” Her words flew like stones flung from a slingshot aimed at his head.
“What are you so all fired up about? We need a plan, and I been thinking on one. I suggest you calm down and let me explain.” Mitch transferred the reins to one hand and laid the other on Melody’s thigh. “Settle down.”
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Oh, she hated that. All her life when someone told her to calm or settle it had just the opposite effect. It made her spitting mad.
“I’ll settle down when I’m good and ready,” she fumed.
“I didn’t aim on giving you your first spanking on the ride home from town, but if you don’t get that temper reined in, I will,” Mitch declared.
“You will not. I won’t allow it.” Melody’s voice edged an octave up.
“I wouldn’t throw fighting words around if I were you, little missy. You’ll find yourself on the losing end sure as shooting. Now, before you dig a deeper hole, would you care to hear my plan? I’ll be happy to listen to any suggestions you have.” His hand tightened on her thigh. It didn’t hurt, but it sent a clear message.
Melody fretted and clenched her fists before giving her head a hard nod.
“All right. Tomorrow we’ll ride to Oakville and visit that lawyer. He can get busy getting your trust released. I want to talk to him anyway. Seemed mighty funny how quick he was at wanting to sell your ranch. Could be he was just being helpful.” Mitch shrugged his shoulders. “Then we’ll ride out to the Bar W. Do you have any money to operate while the lawyer does his part?”
Melody blushed deep red. You shouldn’t think ill of the dead, but if Clay were alive she’d strangle him. How could he leave her in such a fix?
“No, and I need to pay wages to the men,” she grumbled.
“I’ll pay the men. We need your foreman to run the ranch without you while we’re living at Journey’s End, and I know for a fact, men who get their pay are more willing.” He turned the wagon down a well-worn track. “Then we can search your house and especially your brother’s study. Maybe we can figure out where all that money went. Until we catch the killer, you are not to go to the Bar W alone. Hear me?”
She struggled to hold her temper as Mitch issued more orders. “I hear you,” she snarled.
“We’re almost to the cabins. I think it best if we tell them what’s going on. I don’t think our search will bring any danger to Journey’s End, but I want Lars and Sven to be aware just in case.” He pulled the wagon to a stop and leapt to the ground. Moving around to the other side, he held a hand out. “Come on. We’re eating at Sven and Caroline’s tonight.”
Melody (Journey's End Book 2) Page 2