Melody (Journey's End Book 2)

by Victoria Phelps

  “Was that Candy?” Melody persisted.

  Mitch nodded. “A woman sat in the corner directing the comings and goings of those girls. That man needs a drink. I think the fella at the poker table would like company. That sort of thing. She calls out ‘Candy, get on over here’. When she passed by, I grabbed her arm and pulled her close. I whispered that I needed to talk to her about Clay. I said she should tell Madame I wanted to take her upstairs.”

  “Did she go with you?” Melody asked.

  “First, that woman sauntered over and said she was Madame T, but I’d guessed that already. She told me to pay in advance. One dollar for a quick poke and two dollars if I wanted any funny business or more time. She said Candy would tell her if I tried to cheat her, and she gave that poor girl a look to freeze your bones. Anyway, I gave her two dollars, slung my arm around Candy’s shoulders, and let her lead me to her room.” He extended his legs in a wide V and pulled her between them until she lay stretched out, and her head rested on his stomach. “That room wasn’t much bigger than a closet. There was a narrow bed and small table with a bowl and pitcher.” He shook his head.

  “Did she remember Clay?” Melody sat up in the shelter of his legs, and they exchanged sober sighs.

  “Oh, yes, she surely did. She’d felt sorry for him when she saw Madame T and her card sharps targeting him,” Mitch said.

  “Card sharps?”

  “Candy told me Madame T used to run a gambling boat on the Mississippi River. When she was caught cheating and run off, two of the crew came with her. These fellas are professionals. An inexperienced gambler like your brother wouldn’t stand a chance. Most times they played fair, but every now and again they chose a man to ruin, and Candy saw they planned to fleece your brother.”

  “Poor Clay,” Melody cried. “He was a lamb to the slaughter.”

  “He was. Candy lured him away from the tables and upstairs. She figured he would lose more gambling than the two dollars he paid for her time. They spent most of the time talking, and she warned him about Madame T, but he was already in deep.” He paused and considered a point over her left shoulder before he continued. “She said they fell in love, Melody. Clay promised he’d find a way to free her from the Golden Garter, and they’d marry.”

  “Marry? He planned to marry a saloon girl?” Melody’s voice rose with her distress.

  “Sweetheart, you’ve led a charmed life with your pa and brother watching out for you. Not everyone has it so easy,” he scolded. “Candy isn’t much more than a child.”

  “How old is she?” Melody enquired.

  “Seventeen. Her parents passed when she was fifteen, and the only kin she had was her mother’s brother. Her uncle fell into debt, and Madame T said she’d call it square in exchange for the girl. He handed her over and left town.”

  “Her uncle sold her?” she squeaked.

  “That’s about the sum of it. Before this whole mess is resolved, I hope to get her free,” Mitch said.

  Melody nodded. “That would make Clay happy. It’s what he intended to do.” She fisted her hands. “She’s three years younger than I am. My God,” she exclaimed.

  “Before our time was up, Candy told me a few more things. Seems the mayor comes calling most days. He and Madame are thick as thieves,” he snorted. “She’d eavesdropped one day hoping to learn something to help Clay. The two of them wanted to get their hands on three properties. Yours, one owned by an Abel Stone, and a third ranch they’ve acquired. Used to belong to a Chester Smith. Do you know any of these men?”

  “I don’t know them, but I believe the Stone ranch is on our southeast border.” She placed her elbows on her knees and cupped her chin in the palm of one hand.

  “I suspect they thought they’d get your ranch when they busted your brother. That lawyer must have explained to them that you couldn’t get control of your money. As soon as Clay died, they planned to make you an offer. Which they did. They didn’t count on us marrying.” Mitch shrugged his shoulders. “It’s mighty curious. We need to figure out what’s so special about the three ranches. The mayor and Madame are in cahoots, but there has to be a third person. The one who killed your brother. I don’t believe either the mayor or Madame would do their own killing. They’d want their hands clean and alibis in place.”

  “What’s our next step?” Melody asked.

  Mitch lifted Melody and set her in the hollow of his legs. “Here’s the problem, sweetheart. The mayor and the madame want your land, and you’ve refused to sell twice. I’d bet a year’s wages they were behind your brother’s murder. I don’t have any reason to think they’ve given up. You now stand in their way. The two of them might be planning ways to be rid of you right now. Who inherits the ranch if something were to happen to you?” Mitch’s voice was gravely grim.

  “If I had children, they would. If not, my uncle. Pa set it up so it had to be a blood relation. The ranch would never go to my husband,” she replied.

  “The uncle down San Francisco way?”

  Melody nodded agreement.

  “Well, if you were out of the way, they’d approach him. Until they’ve been exposed and arrested, you are in danger.” He pulled her to his chest and rested his chin on the top of her head. “From now on, you have to follow my orders, no questions asked. I have to keep you safe, sweetheart. I have to.”

  “But…” Melody began.

  “No buts, Melody.” He stopped her complaint with a swat to her bottom. “Next Friday, I aim to go to Oakville. The land office will have a map of all the properties, and I want a look at it.”

  “Can I come with you?” Melody asked.

  “Yes, we’ll go to your ranch first and check in with Thomas. If they need any supplies, we can order them the next day when we head back to Journey’s End.” He shifted her in his arms. “While we are in town, you will stay by my side. Understand?”

  Melody nodded, but he wasn’t convinced she’d heard him. The sun was throwing its first rays over the Journey’s End meadows, and neither of them had slept. He carried her to her room, laid her on the bed and covered her with a quilt. He’d keep her safe or die trying.

  He pulled a chair close to the bed, took her hand between his own, and let his eyes drift shut.

  Yup, he thought, or die trying.

  Chapter 9

  They passed an uneventful week at Journey’s End, and Mitch was grateful. When he returned with the men after working the ranch, Melody regaled him with tales of throwing sticks for Chase, helping with the laundry, bathing children and learning to cook. One night she’d proudly presented a plate of biscuits made with her own hands. Truth be told, they were a mite tough, but everyone complimented her and cleaned that plate down to the last crumb.

  He’d begun to hope the magic he felt at Journey’s End might rub off on his feisty girl. He wanted her to stay. He wanted to claim her. Make her his own. Put an end to this marriage in name only business. It was enough to drive a fella mad.

  Mitch leaned back in his chair and sipped whiskey from a tin cup. He held a hand toward his wife. “Come sit with me, sweetheart,” he called.

  “Shhh,” she responded. She sent him a glare of disapproval before dropping her gaze to the bundle in her arms. Standing by the warmth of the fire she held one of the babies in her arms and swayed the way women do when soothing a tiny temper. “She’s almost asleep.”

  “You look a treat with that child in your arms,” Mitch declared. Visions of his own red-haired children clasped to Melody’s bosom danced through his head.

  “Let me take her.” The baby’s mother managed a smooth transfer and carted the child off to bed.

  “Ready to head home?” he asked. He’d already risen and had his hand on the handle of the door. He snapped his fingers, “Come, Chase.” The dog rose in one fluid movement and took his place by Mitch’s leg.

  Melody joined him. “Goodnight all,” she called from the doorway. A chorus of responses drifted from behind them as Mitch pulled the door shut with a thu
mp.

  “What’s the hurry?” Melody’s eyes held confusion sprinkled with a dash of annoyance.

  “Just want you to myself.” Mitch draped an arm over her shoulders and tucked her under his arm. “You happy here?” he asked.

  “At Journey’s End?” She gave a nod. “I love both families; I adore the children, and I like being useful. I didn’t realize how much it hurt me growing up that my pa ignored me. I suppose he just didn’t know what to do with a little girl, and my ma dead and all.” She heaved a sigh to break a heart.

  “Do you think you might want to stay?” he asked.

  “After we catch Clay’s killer you mean?”

  Mitch pulled her into an embrace and nodded. “We’ll catch his killer. Don’t worry your pretty little head about that.” He placed a hand on her bottom and pressed her close. “Did you like what I did the other night?” He hurried on. “I did. I can’t seem to think of anything else but the taste of you, the feel of you. But there’s more. So much more. I’d like to be the one to teach you.” A growl reverberated deep in his throat. “I’m your husband, after all.” He hoped she felt the solid length of him and understood its meaning.

  Melody pushed on his chest, and he loosened his hold. “I don’t know. I do love it here, but the Bar W has always been my home.” She gave her head a sad shake. “Well, I did like the other night, but I think we’d best stop before we can’t. Now, let’s talk about tomorrow. We’re heading for my ranch, right?”

  Mitch stepped away but laced his fingers with hers. He’d have her yet. Wooing a woman was like gentling a horse. You start slowly with a soft word and pat. After a bit, you lead them around with a halter. Before they know what you’re about you have a saddle on their back and you’re throwing your leg over. Now they might buck at first. Probably will. But the cowboy holds firm to his purpose, and he wins in the end.

  “We’ll get an early start. I thought we’d ride if it’s not too far for you. Only bad thing is we have to leave Chase here. It’s too far for him to walk, but Micah loves to play chase with him, so I don’t think he’ll mind.” Mitch leaned down and ran his fingers through the soft hair behind the dog’s ear. “Riding is much faster than a wagon, and we don’t need one this trip. First, we’ll go to your ranch and see how things are going. Check with Thomas and get a list of supplies. The next day, we’ll head into Oakville. We’ll get the order into the Mercantile and set for delivery. I want to get a look at the maps in the land office, and I’d like to have another word with Candy.”

  “Candy,” her voice oozed displeasure. “Why?”

  “Well, I feel sorry for the little gal. Thought I’d reassure her that she’s not forgotten. Anyway, she might have heard something useful about the mayor and Madame’s plans,” he explained. “No sense getting riled over it, Melody. I just want to talk to her.” He grinned. Melody was a little jealous. If he were a betting man, he’d say that the odds were tipping in his favor.

  Mitch opened the door to their cabin and guided her inside. “Wait here,” he instructed. “Guard,” he told Chase who dropped to his belly and put his chin on Melody’s foot. As he’d done every night, he went into her room and checked for intruders.

  “Honestly, Mitch,” Melody scoffed. “No one is going to sneak into your cabin and lie in wait for me.”

  “Our cabin,” he replied. “I’ve never been sorry for being cautious,” he continued. “You go on to bed, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He was grateful when she did as he’d asked. She was sometimes a mite reticent about following his instructions and made his palm itch with the desire to turn her bottom seven shades of scarlet, but he’d not done it. Melody seemed content at Journey’s End, and the foot stamping hellion had disappeared. He didn’t enjoy spanking her, he told himself, but sometimes it was necessary.

  He stared at her closed door. Now, that wasn’t the complete truth. He chided himself. Her lovely bottom lying across his lap was a mighty satisfying sight. When she was his, really his, a spank or two while they enjoyed the marriage bed would bring them both pleasure. He adjusted his trousers with a frown. Lordy, waiting for her to come to him was a strain.

  Mitch trudged off to his bed, but he had little hope that sleep would come with things standing the way they were. He tossed and turned and tossed some more, but the night lightened to dawn at last, and he rose from his rumpled bed.

  “Morning, Melody,” Mitch called as he tapped his knuckles against the wood of her bedroom door. “Best we get an early start. I’ve got biscuits and ham we can eat on the way. I’ll go saddle the horses.”

  “All right. I’m up.” A sleepy voice mumbled as he headed into the dew-cool morning.

  He returned with the horses and was packing food and canteens filled with water when Melody emerged from the house. She wore a burgundy split skirt and a white blouse with a bit of lace around the collar. Her favorite boots, worn down at the heel from wear, peeked from beneath the wide legs of her skirt. He swallowed hard. Lordy, she was a beautiful woman.

  “I’ll help you mount up.” Mitch stood next to a black horse with a white blaze on his face and four white socks.

  “What’s his name?” Melody rubbed her hand down the horse’s flank.

  “White Socks,” Mitch’s laugh rumbled. “Micah named him. We just call him Socks.”

  Melody stroked the horse’s nose. “You’re a lovely boy, Socks.”

  Melody finished her admiration and joined Mitch at the side of the horse. “You know I can get on this horse by myself. I was riding before I could walk.”

  “I like to do it.” Mitch placed strong hands on his wife’s waist and tossed her onto the saddle. He’d take every chance and any opportunity to touch Melody. He hoped she’d get used to the feel of his hands on her body.

  They crossed the river at Ford and dismounted near the cold river. Mitch brought out their breakfast and handed Melody a biscuit.

  “Thank you.” Melody popped the last bite of breakfast into her mouth and took a long pull on the canteen. “If we don’t need to go to town today, we can cut off to the east. It’s faster.”

  Mitch nodded. “Good idea. We’ll be in Oakville tomorrow. That’s soon enough.”

  Thomas was surrounded by three of the ranch hands when they cantered into the yard. The men turned to observe their arrival. Unhappiness radiated from the little group like heat from a griddle.

  “What’s the matter, Thomas?” Mitch hit the ground in a single move. He helped Melody dismount and strode to the waiting men. Their mouths were pressed into thin lines; their eyes narrowed and sparking fire.

  “You men go back out and check on the rest of the cattle and repair the fences,” Thomas instructed the men. He waited while they mounted and turned their horses toward the range before focusing tired, unhappy eyes on Mitch.

  “We’ve been having some trouble, Boss.” He lifted a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed before lifting his shoulders in a mighty shrug.

  Melody stormed up like a tornado that had just chosen which house to destroy. “Mitch is not the boss,” she raged. “I own this ranch and it would do you good to remember that fact, Thomas.” She stamped her foot and raised a devil of dirt. “Tell me what the problem is this minute.”

  “But your husband…” Thomas began.

  “Settle down, Melody. Let’s hear what he has to say,” Mitch began.

  Like a match to kerosene, Melody exploded. “Do not tell me what to do on my own ranch,” she hissed. Her mouth twisted into an ugly sneer and defiant hands rested on her slim hips.

  Where, he wondered, had the sweet woman gone who was proud of her biscuits and bathing babies? It was like this ranch ignited a fire of frustration in his wife. He’d best douse it and quick.

  “Melody, I think you’d best go in the house and regain control of your temper. Thomas has something to tell, and he can’t do it with you carrying on like a spoiled child.” He raised an eyebrow and set his lips in a hard line. It was a look she’d recogniz
ed and responded to in the past. He pointed at the large white house to provide further clarification.

  “I will not be told what to do on my own ranch,” she shrieked before adding another dirt rousing stomp.

  “Excuse me, Thomas,” Mitch shot the foreman an apologetic glance before turning to his fuming wife.

  He’d seen enough tantrums from the young ones at Journey’s End to know that logic and reasoning were futile when they’d reached the explosion at all costs stage. If this were his three-year-old, he’d give the child a small but meaningful spank and direct them to their room to cool off. If the child had any sense of self-preservation, they’d take the opportunity to depart. Well, it was worth a try.

  “Come with me, Melody,” Mitch said as he took firm grip of her upper arm.

  “No.” Another stamp. Another cloud of dirt.

  He pulled her a few steps toward the house. “Stop struggling, Melody. I want to talk to you without Thomas being part of the conversation.” He relaxed his hold and leaned to whisper in her ear. “You’re behaving like a child, so I reckon I need to treat you like one.” He paused and let his words sink past her petulance. “You are to go in the house, quietly, and calm down. I swear I will relate to you every word Thomas says. I have no desire or reason to keep ranch business from you. However, it is clear he is more comfortable speaking to a man.”

  “But I…” Melody began.

  “You will do as I say, or I will turn you over my knee right now and give you the spanking you have earned out here in the yard rather than in the privacy of the house later.” He waited for her reaction, then started back towards Thomas. He’d made a threat, no, a promise, and he would be true to his word.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” she growled.

  For a big man, Mitch moved with speed and grace. He was beside her in the time it takes to draw a deep breath, and he landed a resounding swat to her backside.

  “Last chance,” he informed her.

  Melody considered his serious face, Thomas standing nearby trying to appear uninterested, the hands paused in their work and appearing very interested, and Belinda who stood in the door with a hand covering her mouth and eyes round with dismay. She retrieved her arm and stormed toward the house.