Melody (Journey's End Book 2)

by Victoria Phelps

  He slid her across the surface of the desk until she lay with her legs facing the large leather chair. Mitch dropped into it and draped her legs over his shoulders. He arranged her to his liking and lowered his head to enjoy the feast. He pressed his tongue to her most intense pleasure point and alternately pushed and swished his tongue.

  Melody’s frantic movements told him she was nearing climax. Before she vaulted over the top, he let his fingers drift to the opening of her back passage and applied gentle pressure. She paused as if wondering at that new sensation, but renewed pressure from his tongue sent her skittering to the brink, and she convulsed with pleasure. He stayed at his task until he had wrung every tremor, every shudder, every convulsion from her body.

  Mitch gave a gentle laugh. She had screamed his name, not once but twice, and it had been music to his ears. He hadn’t tried to quiet her. After the noise of the spanking, he didn’t suppose they’d worry about her sounds of pleasure.

  Pulling her to the edge of the desk, he let her drop to his lap. She moaned as her ravaged bottom met his hard thighs, but he turned her onto her hip, and she settled. Settled, he thought that word over. How she hated that word. He didn’t understand it. Settle was a gentle reminder, a suggestion to behave. A word meant to help more than harm. Maybe someday he’d know why it sent her into a tantrum.

  He snuggled her into his chest and pushed messy piles of hair from her face. His promise had been kept. They still had a marriage in name only, but just barely. Mitch ran his hand up her naked thigh. He leaned his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. It would take all his strength not to take her. After all, she was his wife. He would be within his rights, but he wanted more. He wanted a wife in spirit as well as body.

  Belinda stood in the hallway as he left the study with his wife asleep in his arms.

  “Melody is exhausted,” he explained. “I’m going to put her to bed.”

  “Sometimes it is a good thing to be worn out.” She nodded approval. “If you don’t need anything else, I will head over to our cabin.”

  “No, thank you. We won’t need anything else tonight.” He lingered for a moment. “I’d like a quick word with Thomas, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course, come by our cabin when you are ready.” Belinda opened the door and disappeared into the twilight.

  Mitch carried Melody upstairs. Sitting her on the side of the bed, he unbuttoned her skirt and removed it. He laid her on her stomach wincing at the flaming crimson of her backside. He soaked a cloth in cool water and laid it over the fiery flesh before covering her with the sheet.

  “Goodnight, sweetheart,” he murmured into her ear.

  Mitch and Chase crossed the yard and knocked softly on the door to the foreman’s cabin. When Thomas answered, he motioned him outside.

  “I’d like to ask you a question,” Mitch stated.

  “Of course, Boss, I will answer if I can.” Thomas put his hands on his hips and waited.

  “Do you know where I might find Madame T?” he asked.

  “Madame T?” Thomas repeated.

  Mitch nodded.

  Thomas leaned in and spoke in a voice low and husky.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Mitch swore under his breath. “I’ll be damned.”

  Chapter 6

  Melody added an extra pair of boots and a shawl to her trunk before latching the lid. “That’s it,” she nodded at the tall man leaning with one shoulder against the wall of her room.

  “I’ll get it in the wagon,” Mitch replied. He heaved the load to his shoulder and ducked through the door.

  She checked one more time for any items she might need or want. Taking a deep breath, she left her room – the only room she’d ever known – and followed her husband down the stairs. She was leaving her home. The very idea gave her stomach a queer turn. She rested her palm on her stomach and took a deep breath. It’s only temporary, she reminded herself. Six months or until they found her brother’s killer, whatever came first. She had promised Mitch six months with no strings, but she’d come back to the Bar W as soon as she could.

  “Come on, Chase,” Mitch motioned and the dog jumped into the wagon.

  Her husband put his hands on either side of her waist and lifted her to the wagon seat. The action both excited and dismayed her. His masculinity stirred her in a way she’d not known before, and it wasn’t quite comfortable. She’d lain awake last night with that cool cloth on her bottom and reflected. Mitch was a means to an end. Nothing more. Nothing less. With him at her side, she would get her trust released and save the ranch. With his help, she would have a better chance at locating her brother’s killer.

  Until then, she’d keep her temper and her vocabulary under tight control. Those spankings he delivered hurt like the very devil, but they left her clinging to his shirt and soaking up his words of comfort like a plant turning toward the sun. They also left a throbbing ache between her thighs that was definitely not comfortable. He must be kept at arm’s length for more reasons than one.

  She moaned as the wagon hit a bump in the road.

  “Yup,” Mitch commented, “that’s part of it.”

  “Part of what?” Melody asked.

  “Part of a spanking. You’ve got to sit on it the next day. Adds to the reminder. Keeps it fresh in your mind.” Mitch seemed quite pleased with his assessment of her discomfort.

  “Why you low down…” she began. Her voice rose to a low shriek. How dare he speak of her spanking in such a calm voice? How could he speak of it at all when all she wanted was to forget it?

  “Don’t go asking for another one, sweetheart.” Mitch focused the blaze of his dark brown eyes on her. “We have business in town, and we need clear heads. Keep alert in that lawyer’s office. He knows more than he’s saying. Arriving in town with a tanned bottom and a face streaked with tears won’t help our cause.”

  Melody nodded.

  She’d meant to watch her temper, and yet she’d raised her voice and shot words like bullets from a gun. Her anger was on a hair trigger. Maybe Mitch was right. Fury came a mite easy.

  The remainder of the trip to Oakville was made in silence. It was a lovely morning, sunny with a cool breeze. The sky was a single sheet of blue hanging over their heads like a blessing. She twisted until she rested on her hip and decided to enjoy the ride.

  Mitch drove the wagon to the Livery and pulled to a stop. A stooped man in overalls stepped from the dusk of the building into the sun.

  “Can I help ya, mister?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. We plan to be in town for two to three hours. I hate to leave the horses hitched for so long,” Mitch began.

  “Leave it to me, mister. I’ll take care of ‘em. A little rub down and some oats wouldn’t hurt any.” He laid a compassionate hand on the nearest horse and gave a friendly pat.

  Mitch looked the man up and down before continuing. “Would you mind if I left my dog? He’d be more comfortable in the shade of the building than following us around town. His name’s Chase.”

  The old fellow looked in the back of the wagon where Chase lay on his blanket. “Hello there, Chase. Ain’t you a pretty fella?” He asked the dog. Chase stood and his long burgundy coat fluttered in the breeze.

  Mitch laughed and ran his hand down the dog’s side. “He is, and he knows it. But he’s a good watchdog. Nobody will get the drop on me as long as Chase is around.”

  “I’m happy to have the company if he’s willing to stay.” He held out his hand, and Chase gave it a good sniff before jumping from the wagon and sauntering over to the shade.

  Mitch lifted Melody to the ground. He swooped her in and out of the wagon as if she weighed next to nothing, and she knew that not to be true. She loved it, but she meant to keep him at that arm’s length she’d been musing on.

  He held out his elbow. When she slipped her hand through, they headed for the lawyer’s office.

  “Mr. Martin,” Mitch said as they entered.

  “I’ve come to
get my trust money,” Melody interrupted.

  “Well, Miss…” The lawyer paused at Mitch’s glare. “I’m sorry, Mrs. McBride, the marriage took place so quickly. I worry about your interests and Mr. McBride’s intentions. I sent a telegraph to your uncle explaining the situation. He suggested an annulment could be obtained if his niece was coerced.”

  “Now just a damn minute,” Mitch exploded. “My wife married me willingly. That was obvious when we visited yesterday.”

  “And,” Melody added, “you had no right to alarm my uncle.”

  The lawyer took a step backward away from a fuming Mitch. “I was only doing what any concerned man would do. I am worried about this sudden union and the release of your funds.”

  “Do you have my money?” Melody enquired.

  “Yes, but before I release it, I have another matter to discuss with you. The buyer for your ranch increased their offer by one thousand dollars.” He paused and swallowed so hard Melody saw his Adam’s apple quivering in his throat. “Mr. McBride,” he motioned toward Mitch, “shares a ranch with his family on the other side of Fork. Surely he won’t wish to maintain two ranches with such a distance between them.”

  The silence following his little speech held a hint of violence.

  “Let me get this straight,” Mitch’s voice reverberated low and thunderous. “First, you question my intentions toward my wife. If I were a man easily angered, I’d invite you to join me outside to resolve that issue.” He glared at the lawyer as if still considering this possibility. “Then you contact my wife’s uncle and suggest my motives are unworthy. All in the hopes, I assume, of keeping her funds from being released and denying her ranch an operating budget. How am I doing so far?”

  The lawyer’s face glistened beneath a fine layer of sweat.

  “Finally, you offer her a sweetened deal. I have two questions. One, who wants to buy her ranch, and was it worth killing for?”

  Blood drained from the lawyer’s face leaving it pasty white. “Killing for?” The papers in his hands trembled. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

  Mitch regarded the man with a cool gaze and shrugged a single shoulder. “One more thing. You went to a lot of trouble to learn about me. I don’t like folks snooping into my business, Mr. Martin. I’d keep that in mind.”

  “If you’d hand over the bank draft for my money, we’ll be on our way,” Melody inserted. Mitch was angry, and she admired how he kept a tether on it.

  The lawyer slumped over his desk. He pushed a paper in her direction. Mitch studied the document before sliding it in front of his wife.

  “Looks in order,” he grumbled.

  Melody picked up the pen, dipped it in ink, and signed.

  “Here is your money, Mrs. McBride. If I can be of any further service,” he began.

  “We’ll let you know,” Mitch interrupted. “Let’s go, Melody.”

  When they left the office, he again directed them into the alley and waited. The lawyer stepped onto the walk and kicked up dust in his hurry to the large house with the white picket fence.

  “Something strange is going on, and that’s a fact,” Mitch declared. “Let’s have our dinner and head for Ford. I think we best get that draft into your account today.”

  “I agree,” Melody answered. “That lawyer and the mayor want my ranch mighty bad. Do you think they murdered Clay?”

  “I doubt they did it themselves, but they could have hired someone. My gut tells me they’re in it up to their necks, but that won’t hold up in a court of law. We need proof, and I believe we have a place to start.” Mitch dropped his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

  “Where?” Melody asked.

  “The Golden Garter,” Mitch replied. “Come on, let’s eat. I’ll explain on the ride back to Journey’s End. It’s not safe to discuss it here.”

  “Tell me what you know.” Her voice vibrated with her fury.

  Mitch pursed his lips and raised a single eyebrow. That look sent a quiver of warning wiggling through her body.

  “All right,” she acquiesced, “lunch first.”

  Chapter 7

  Mitch ordered two extra plates of beef, mashed potatoes and carrots and carried them to the Livery in a basket.

  “I thought you might be hungry it being dinnertime and all,” Mitch handed the first plate to the man.

  “Why, thank you, son.” The man eyed the plate with undisguised pleasure. “It’s been a while since I had such fine vittles.” He retrieved utensils from the basket and sat on a nearby bench. He shut his eyes and groaned as he chewed his first bite.

  Mitch laid the second plate on the ground. Chase sniffed and pushed the plate with his paw to suit him before digging into his own dinner.

  “That dog eats better than most men,” the man declared.

  “He does, and that’s a fact, but he’s a good friend of mine.” Mitch patted the dog. “I’ll hitch the wagon. You enjoy your meal.” He disappeared into the dim barn and returned leading his horses.

  Mitch lifted Melody into the wagon and called Chase to jump in the back. He dropped a few coins into the hand of the Livery attendant. “If you would return the dishes and the basket to the café, I’d be mighty obliged.”

  “I’ll do it,” the man promised. “You come back any time, and I’ll take care of your horses and your dog.”

  Mitch smiled his thanks and turned the horses toward Ford.

  Melody sat quietly until they were a good piece out of town. Mitch admired her efforts at self-control and wondered how long she could last. He was on the verge of taking pity when she reached the end of her rope.

  “Tell me about the Golden Garter, and what it has to do with my brother,” she demanded.

  “All right,” he agreed. “I asked Thomas if he knew who Madame T was, and he did. Seems most men in the area know.” He wondered how much his little bride knew about men and their needs.

  “Well, who is she?” Annoyance soaked her words.

  “She might own the saloon. Thomas didn’t know. She does own the business that takes place on the second floor,” he explained.

  “What kind of business?”

  “Well, sometimes a man wants a woman, and he doesn’t have one of his own.” He considered how to proceed. “So he rents one.”

  “Ooohh.” The word was long and drawn out. “The whores are on the second floor. Why didn’t you just say so?”

  “That’s a mighty harsh word, but, yes, women sell themselves at the Golden Garter. Madame T sets it up and takes the money. I hope those poor ladies get a fair share,” he said.

  Well, that answered the question. His bride was well informed about the goings on between men and women. That little bit of information could come in useful if they ever got a true wedding night.

  “My brother went five thousand dollars into debt for sex?” Shock and surprise flowed through Melody’s words.

  “Well, I expect a good deal of it was gambling debt. Some might have been for going upstairs.” He chewed the next question over before asking it. “Do you know of any woman with the name of Candy in Oakville?”

  “No,” she answered.

  “Well, I got a feeling we’ll find her at the Golden Garter,” he said.

  “Turn around, Mitch, let’s go talk to her.” She pulled on his arm.

  He shook his arm free. “Don’t do that,” he scolded. “You could pull the wagon off the road. I’ll go back another day and talk to Candy. You can’t go in the saloon. Decent women don’t.”

  “I don’t care. I have a right to know what happened between her and my brother. I plan to go with you,” she declared.

  “Well, I imagine the usual type of thing happened between Candy and your brother, but he did thank her in that letter for trying to help him. There must have been more to their meetings than female companionship.” Mitch considered the idea. “But you can’t come. I can slip in and go unnoticed, and it won’t seem strange for me to request a trip upstairs. If you come, every eye in the house will be o
n you and wondering why you’re there. I’d have to keep watch over you the entire time in case some man got the wrong idea. It would be a wasted trip, and most likely ruin any chance we have to get information from Candy if she’s there.”

  “But…” Melody began.

  “Think it over. Don’t get angry. Think. You know I’m right. We need to find your brother’s murderer, and Candy might have information we can use. If I go alone, I might be able to talk to her. If you go, well, I don’t know what will happen.” Mitch gave the reins a little snap and the horses picked up their pace.

  Melody frowned a storm before nodding her head.

  “When we get to the bank in Ford, you need to apologize to the banker. You were mighty rude the other day. None of this situation was his fault,” Mitch admonished.

  “Apologize?” Melody snorted. “He should have told me what was happening with that account.”

  “Why would he do that? Was your name on the account?” Mitch asked.

  Melody shook her head.

  “Did your brother have the right to take money out as he saw fit?”

  Melody nodded.

  “Those are the facts. I know you were upset when you discovered the account empty, but you took it out on an innocent man. He deserves an apology, and he will get one – a sincere one.”

  Melody’s mulish expression told the story, but she gave reluctant agreement with a slight tilt of her head.

  Mitch guided the wagon into Ford and pulled to a stop in front of the bank. After setting the brake he leapt to the ground, circled to the back of the wagon, and motioned for Chase to jump out.

  “Go do your business,” he instructed the dog. Red hair waving in the breeze Chase trotted off around the side of the building.