He liked horses. He wished he’d seen Melody’s trick riding act. He’d arrived in town too late. He’d probably just missed her.
Deep in thought, not paying any attention to where he was headed, he ran into Sheriff Rutland. Literally, he ran into him, bumped him right off the brick sidewalk.
“Hey. Watch where you’re goin’. I saw you from across the street. I called your name three times. Where the hell was your head?”
Van reached out his hand and pulled the man back up onto the walk. “Sorry. Not used to anyone knowing my name in a strange town.”
“You gonna do some fishin’?” the sheriff asked, pointing at the gear he’d purchased. Fishing poles and a tackle box loaded with lures, line, and flies in his hand, he couldn’t very well deny it, but he wanted to. Why the question caused a flood of guilt and a surge of heat to flare, Van didn’t care to think. “Ah, yeah. Heard the Grande Ronde had some good fishing. I’ll be heading that way with the Miller party.”
“Fishin’s pretty good right here on the Umatilla…nice trout and salmon. At the bottom of the hill where you’re camped, there’s a nice pool. I’ve had the best luck in the evening after the sun goes down.”
“Right. I’ll give it a try.” Van tipped his hat and started to walk away. The sheriff caught him by the sleeve.
“I’ve got the reward money for you. I’ll bring it up this afternoon.”
Van drew himself up and put his shoulders back. “About the reward, I don’t want it. I’d like it to go to the Millers and…and the girl. Is there any way you can do this and leave me out of it?”
The sheriff scratched his chin. “I don’t see how. You’re the one who stopped the son-of-a-bitch. What you do with the reward money is up to you,” the sheriff said and waved his hand and made his way down the walk.
“Right. Thank you,” Van called after him.
∙•∙
“Maji,” Melody said, her cheek pressed to the mare’s jowl, “We’ve had a good time, haven’t we?”
She stood back and swept her right arm down. The mare folded her front legs under her and lowered her rear to the ground. Melody went around and climbed aboard, settled herself, and leaning forward, hugged the mare’s neck. She clicked her tongue, and the mare rose carefully, gracefully, to her feet and began a slow walk across the crest of the hill behind the camp.
“You’ll soon be coming into season. You should be home. You’re five years old now, old enough to be a mother,” Melody said into the mare’s ear.
The mare tossed her head and snuffled.
“I know, I know, but it’s time we look to our futures. We’ve had our adventure and look where it’s got us? You were almost stolen. It’s dangerous out here on our own. Remember the lovely meadow at home, the belly-high, sweet grass and the warm stall with a trough of cool water and all the corn mash you can eat? And, and, the clean straw bed. Remember?”
She stroked the mare’s strong neck. “I thought we could do it, make it big. It wasn’t your fault we didn’t. I know that. It’s me. There comes a time when you have to ask for a reshuffle of the cards. And I’m asking. I don’t know where we go from here. I mean, I know we go home, but then what? I can ride you every day. We’ll do a few of the old tricks. Maybe I’ll think of some new ones. I don’t know. Maybe we’ll have a new little Maji we can train. Bet any foal of yours will be smart as a whip. We’ll have to be on our toes to handle the little guy, or girl.”
∙•∙
Standing out of sight at the back of Melody’s wagon, Van watched her brush the mare’s back and chest, talking to her all the while in a low, seductive voice. He set the fishing gear down, leaning it against the wagon wheel.
Her left arm in a sling, she managed to doctor the mare’s fetlocks and give her an apple. She waved her good arm, and the horse went down, and Van realized her intent. He stepped out to stop her and hesitated. She straddled the mare and laid down on her belly on the mare’s back, her hair blending with the horse’s mane.
The mare slowly rose and went into a slow walk without her rider saying a word or giving any form of signal or direction. Staying well back, he followed them to the edge of the hill, prepared to stop the horse if it tried to descend to the ravine.
The horse stopped, bowed her head, and the girl leaned back, slowly, easing herself to lay on her back, her head resting on the mare’s rump. Her good arm folded over her eyes, she let forth a cry of sheer despair.
The moment struck him as especially private, a moment of prayer. Gooseflesh covered his arms and legs. He shivered and knew no one should, or would, tame Melody McAdam. If she ever decided to allow herself to love, to be loved in return, it would have to be with someone who understood there would always be a primitive, spiritual part of her no human could touch.
Perhaps Jo had encountered the same barrier deep within Ryder McAdam? But Jo had adapted, she’d let Ryder go, let him run free, certain he would always return to her. She’d accepted it. Van didn’t know if he could, or if he wanted to try.
A cool breeze coiled up from the ravine, setting the tall grass to waving. It whispered and sang a sweet, lonely song, bringing tears to his eyes. It would take more than a fishing pole to…to…what? Did he want to win Melody McAdam’s heart, her trust? What did he expect from her?
It wouldn’t be fair to pressure her if he didn’t have a purpose in mind. This woman took life seriously. If she loved, she would love deeply. If she trusted, she would trust with her life. The responsibility of forming a lifetime friendship with such a creature proved more than he could handle at the moment. He regretted his impulse to buy the silly fishing poles. He should leave her alone. She’d made it pretty clear she didn’t want his company.
He likened befriending Melody McAdam to attempting a friendship with a wild animal. Say, a wolf? Would that be wise? To what purpose would you want to befriend a wolf? Perhaps to see if you could, a challenge to win the critter, keep it as a pet? He shuddered to think anyone could, or should, try to make a pet of Melody. She’d bite their hand off if they crossed her.
But shouldn’t he befriend her because of the connection between the two families? Surely his desire to befriend her could be justified? Then he should tell her who he was, tell her Jo was his sister. Then she’d have to be nice to him.
Ah, there lay the rub. He didn’t want her to have to be nice to him, polite, accept him. He wanted her to take him as he was, on face value, not because she had to.
Chapter Nine
Morning passed, noon came and went, afternoon faded, and Van kept his distance. And he found it harder than he could ever have imagined. He wanted to be the one who helped her from her wagon, he wanted to brush the hair from her eyes, hold her plate for her while she served herself from Ollie’s kettle. He wanted to fetch her a glass of water. He smiled and made conversation, aware of every move, every word she said. He wanted her to lean on him, need him.
For a distraction from his growing obsession with Melody McAdam, he volunteered to help Jerry mend harness and to help the boys fill their water barrels at the corral pump on the edge of town. They were almost through filling their barrels when Van heard someone call his name. The sheriff reined in his horse next to the corral and started to dismount. Van stopped him, keeping him at a distance, out of earshot from Mick and Jim, who were filling the last barrel with water. “Got that reward money burning a hole in my vest pocket,” said the sheriff in way too loud a voice, patting his chest over his vest pocket. “I was on my way up to your camp.”
“Well met then,” Van said and held out his hand for a shake. “Jerry says we’re moving out in the morning. We’re filling our water barrels.”
“I see. Here you go then,” said the sheriff, removing a fat envelope from his vest pocket. “The two deputies from Wasco County are supposed to arrive on the train tomorrow. They’ll take over, see Kramer gets what he deserves. Be glad to be rid of Kramer. He’s like a rabid dog, foaming at the mouth and snarling all day and night.”
&n
bsp; “Thank you for this.” Van tucked the envelope inside his shirt. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Give my regards to Rafe Bollo when next you see him.” The sheriff turned his mount around to head east down the street.
“I will do that,” Van said.
Up on the hill, Ollie had started to take down her wash from the makeshift line Van had strung between the wagons. He tied Ranger off in the shade of Melody’s wagon and approached the lady with a plan. “What would you say to a trout dinner?” he asked, attempting to fold a pair of trousers.
Ollie grabbed them out of his hands, shook them out and folded them neatly before dropping them in her basket. “I’d say, I’ll have cornbread and beans waiting when you come back with an empty creel.”
He laughed and handed her a shirt and dropped the clothespins in her cloth bag. “Between the four of us we should at least come back with a frog, maybe a couple of frogs. I’ve had frog, and the legs aren’t bad if you roast them right.”
“I’m not roasting no frog’s legs over my fire. It's fish or beans. And who’s four? Which four?”
He tipped his head to the side to look in Melody’s direction. He’d heard her laugh at something Mick and Jim were arguing over. He’d observed the boys carefully and came to the conclusion they treated Melody like a big sister. No hidden crushes there.
“I thought, me, Mick and Jim, and Kit.”
Ollie shook her head at him and shoved him aside to remove the rest of her clothes. “No. I don’t think so. She’s not up to it. I know she’s walkin’ around and doin’ pretty much for herself, but you can’t expect her to traipse up and down the hill to the river, let alone manage a pole.”
He leaned down to get close to her ear. “She can ride Maji.”
She sputtered and batted her hand at him. “She most certainly cannot.”
He put a hand on her rounded shoulder. “She can. I watched her. She mounted by herself, and she rode out to the edge of the hill. And she dismounted by herself. Well, not exactly by herself, Maji accommodated her beautifully.”
Ollie pursed her lips and squinted her eyes at him. Undaunted, he continued to press his case. “I think it’d do her good to do something. I don’t know, something other than sit around and feel sorry for herself. The boys and I will watch her, come back if she gets too tired.”
Shaking her head, Ollie waved him away. “You’ll do what you want. If she wants to go, then I can’t stop her. I got no hold on her. I don’t have much control over my man or my boys either. But…if she don’t have some kind of relapse I’ll be mighty surprised. And I’m gonna blame you.”
Impulsively, he kissed her on the nose. “Right. I take complete responsibility.”
∙•∙
Mick and Jim, of course, proved more than keen on the idea. They sprinted off to get their gear. Van coaxed Maji to follow him, tempting her with an apple. Melody sat half-asleep, leaning back against the wagon frame.
“The boys and I thought we’d try our luck fishing the Umatilla,” he said.
Her eyes flew open. She sat up straight, shoulders back and eyes shooting sparks, her focus on her horse. “What? Where the hell do you think you’re going with my horse? Steal her, would you? I knew you were a thief wrapped in sheep’s clothing. Too pretty by half. I knew it, and I told Ollie. I told her you were out to bamboozle us all.”
He held up the two fly rods and the box of tackle. “Fishing. Mick and Jim and me, and you, if you would care to join us. Maji is here to carry you, your majesty,” he said, managing a slight bow of subservience.
Tackle box in hand, he covered the place on his chest where his heart would be and swore an oath. “I have no designs on your faithful mare, ’tis your esteem I am hoping to win,” he said and waggled his eyebrows on purpose to discombobulate her.
Her response…a tongue and a raspberry. “Fishing? The Umatilla?”
“Yeah, the sheriff said he’s had good luck in a deep pool right below this hill. I promised Ollie we’d have a trout dinner. You have to help, or it’s cornbread and beans again.”
She started to rise to her feet. He set aside the tackle box and put out his hand to help her up. Without thinking, she took it. “I don’t have my fly pole or any of my flies,” she said.
“I’ve got everything we need right here. Mick and Jim have their own gear. Maji will take it easy with you. The boys and I’ll walk.”
She stood there, lips puckered up in a pout and brows knit together, conflicted emotions exposed. “Those are bamboo,” she said and pointed to his poles.
“That’s what the salesman said.”
“You bought those this morning?”
“Yup, went to town especially to buy fishing poles.”
“You’re really crazy.”
He nodded and grinned at her, dropped the poles to the ground and held out his arms. “Come on, let’s go fishing. We’re keeping the boys waiting.”
She dropped into his arms. He swung her up on Maji’s back and handed her the poles and tackle box.
Mick and Jim took off at a run across the hill, shouting threats of what the last one to the river would be forced to eat. Van walked ahead of Maji for a ways, then Melody urged the mare to come up beside him. “I love Ollie’s cornbread,” she said. “She makes it with cream and hominy.”
“Fine,” he said without looking up at her. “We’ll have cornbread and trout. You want to bet on who gets the first bite?”
∙•∙
Mick and Jim disappeared over the side of the hill. Melody, tongue in cheek said, “Nope. Those two will scare all the fish away before we get our lines in the water. This is going to be a complete bust.”
“You’re kind of a pessimist. You know that?”
“I’m practical,” she said, and yeah, she did sound pretty sour, which wasn’t at all how she wanted to be. She dearly wished she were one of those girls who could smile and giggle all lighthearted and silly, but it wasn’t in her. And damn it, her ribs hurt and her shoulder ached. Fishing, what a dumb idea. Her ribs were screaming, and her shoulder ached so bad it felt like her ears were spinning.
But a person could only manage sourpuss for so long before getting fed up with one’s own company, and that’s where she was. She wanted to be with the boys running down the hill whooping and shouting. Riding Maji helped. How did he know she needed to ride Maji today? How she longed to ride Maji, no matter if only for a little while.
“Jerry says we move tomorrow,” he said, putting his hand on her leg. Maji came to a stop. A narrow trail led down to the river below. Melody considered removing his hand from her thigh, but it felt warm and reassuring, not at all controlling, although he had controlled her and Maji with his touch. He’d done it naturally, and she’d obeyed. The knowledge shook Melody to her core. Only her brother Ryder had that kind of power over her; the idea took her breath away.
He went around her to the high side above the path and swung his leg over Maji’s rump and settled himself behind her. “Lean back on me and relax. Breathe, I know those ribs must hurt,” he said, both of his arms folding around her, holding her gently against his chest.
Too much in pain to argue, she relaxed her shoulders and closed her eyes. Maji picked up her slow rocking gate, and they rode in perfect unison to the edge of the river. They’d stopped, neither moving. Maji broke the spell with a shake of her head and a snuffle. Melody opened her eyes and blinked. The cool air, fresh and clean, brushed her warm cheeks.
Van slid back and jumped off Maji’s rear without disturbing her. He moved to the horse’s side and held out his arms. If he had been grinning, Melody would’ve slapped his hands away, but the look in his eyes begged her trust. She leaned out and slid easily into his arms.
He set her on the ground and instantly released her to give Maji a caress along her neck. “She’s something…beautiful,” he said to her horse.
A stupid, unreasonable shot of jealousy zipped through her. The feel of his hands on her waist left an invisible impressio
n. She’d fallen for the intense look of sincerity in his eyes, more the fool. It was about Maji. He wanted Maji. He was playing games with her to get her horse. “She is beautiful, and she’s mine.”
“Maji, she’s very special. You trained her?” he asked.
Head down, cheeks burning and her heart racing, Melody put her outrage in check. She had no excuse. She’d fallen for his charm. His good looks, she must guard her heart against his good looks and those damn blue eyes. “Yes. My family is friendly with the Cayuse. A mare died giving birth, and one of the elders suggested to, uh, suggested…I raise her. I slept with her in the barn for the first two years. We’ve worked and played together all her life.”
He turned those blue eyes on her and smiled. “She’s something special. And you are something special. You’ve done very well by her. We have a wild horse herd. They come up to our barn during the winter. There’s a buckskin I’d like to cut from the herd. After three years, I’ve finally got him to come up and eat grain out of the bucket for me. He even let me touch his nose this past winter. But I doubt I’ll ever get a saddle on him.”
“My father trained horses,” she said without thinking. Damn, he’d done it again, extracted a piece of information out of her without her permission.
“Trained? He doesn’t anymore?”
She shook her head. “No, he died when I was very little. Do you have brothers or sisters?” On her guard now, she stopped herself from adding the rest of the story, the story of her adoption, of her brothers and her sister.
He smiled at her. “I do. I have one of each.” He shrugged his shoulders and chuckled. “We better get our poles in the water before it gets too dark to see.”
Gathering on Dance Hall Road Page 6