“It’s not my child. Stephanie is not carrying my child. I must let Melanie know.”
Carter ran into the house and straight to the library. The room was empty, the walls echoing back Melanie’s name. She must be in her room; Carter thought and bounded up the stairs. Melanie had the guest room at the very end of the hallway. He rapped on the door impatiently.
“Melanie,” he called out.
There was no answer and unable to bear the waiting any more, Carter pushed open the door. She was not there but what alarmed him was the wardrobe doors stood flung open. He entered and registered a sweet scent of the flowery perfume that Melanie favored. Her clothes were gone! Carter stared unbelievingly at the empty metal hangers.
“Oh no!” he said out aloud.
He turned back dejectedly and saw the folded sheet of paper. He sat down heavily to read it.
Dear Carter,
I write this note with profound sadness. I have left for Ohio as I don’t feel that you and I are compatible for marriage. Our values differ as do our sense of justice. I cannot bear to stay at the ranch anymore and you may think writing the note an action of cowardice. Maybe it is. It’s far better for us to part this way. I wish you all the best and I implore you to do the right thing by Stephanie. After all, she’s carrying your child, your heir.
Sincerely,
Melanie Marriot
He let his head fall to his open hands. She was gone. His Melanie was gone.
“I take it she has left,” James said from the doorway.
Carter did not look up.
“Then what are you still doing here?” James continued. “Shouldn’t you go after her?”
“The train is probably out of the state by now,” Carter said, his voice raw.
“The last time I checked, Ohio was still in America. Go after her Carter. Melanie is a great girl and she sure as hell doesn’t deserve you, but she loves you.”
Carter thought of his brother’s words. It was stupid to give up without a fight.
“You’re right; I shall go for her and bring her back here where she belongs!”
Chapter Seventeen
Melanie, who never cried, sobbed through the entire journey from Montana to Ohio. By the time the train docked in Columbus, her eyes were swollen and her throat ached. She badly longed for home, and she hoped with all of her heart that her parents were still at the ranch.
She dragged herself out of the carriage and went straight to the back car that housed the animals. After fetching midnight, she slung the small bag she had stuffed her clothes in. On her other hand, she carried the saddle which she had had with her in the carriage. She saddled him and mounted, taking the long stretch of road that would deposit her home.
There was no pleasure in returning home. Melanie felt like a failure. She knew she had a lot of thinking ahead of her. Marriage was now out of the cards for her. She never wanted to have feelings for a man as long as she lived. She had to figure out how to occupy herself, seeing as her parents had gotten rid of the ranch and had mapped out their own lives.
She urged Midnight to a gallop as the sun begun to disappear behind the clouds. She refused to think what her next course of action would be if her parents had left for their trip. She got off the main road and galloped down the driveway, pulling the reins harder until she rounded the bend where the house came into view.
Melanie could have wept at the lit up house. She brought Midnight to a halt, fell on his back and allowed the tears of relief to fall from her eyes. She stayed where she was until she had composed herself. Then she rounded the house, dismounted and entered the stables. The brushes hang from the wall, and she took one. After unsaddling Midnight, she brushed him down, taking her time with each stroke. Melanie was in no rush to explain everything to her parents.
When she was done brushing him, she carried hay to him and then filled his trough with water. By then, darkness had fallen and she slowly made her way to the house, her bag on her shoulder. She could hear their voices in the kitchen. Melanie stood outside the back door and inhaled deeply.
Then she knocked on the door.
“Who could it be at this time,” Melanie heard her mother ask.
The door opened and her father stood there gaping at her.
“Melanie?” he said. “Is that you?
“Did you say Melanie?” her mother said and edged her father from the doorway.
Her hand flew to her chest. “Melanie, what in God’s name are you doing here?”
Melanie smiled uncertainly.
“Let her enter first my dear,” her father said and Melanie entered into the warmth of the kitchen.
Her stomach growled at the delicious smells coming from a pot on the stove. Her mother moved to it and stirred its contents. Another surprise. In all the years she had lived at home, Melanie had never seen her mother cook.
“Come and join us my dear,” her father said. “Forget about the food.”
Her mother approached as though Melanie had a rifle.
“Alright Melanie, what is this about?” her father said gently.
Melanie licked her dry lips. “You did say that if I didn’t like it in Montana I should come back home.”
That was not what she had intended to say and she could see the shock on her father’s face.
“See Horace,” her mother exploded. “You spoil her. Did you give it a chance? No. The slightest discomfort and you come running home.”
“Be quiet!” her father bellowed.
Melanie was as taken aback. Her father rarely shouted.
“I know it’s more than that,” her father said and laid a rough hand on hers.
The tears came then and her father allowed her to cry.
“I’m sure whatever it is, it can be solved,” he soothed.
Melanie sat up and wiped off her tears. That would be the last time she would cry for Carter Taft. From that moment on, she was done with him.
“No father, it is done. I’m done with him and Montana,” she said.
“Alright my dear. How about a nice supper and we can talk about this again tomorrow?”
“Is it Ok if I eat it in my room,” Melanie asked.
“Of course.”
She served herself a delicious smelling broth, took a piece of bread and left the kitchen. Before she was out of earshot, Melanie heard her mother’s hysterical voice.
“Horace, what shall we do? Our trip is in a week’s time,” she said. “I was so looking forward to it! I’ve wanted nothing more in my life than to see the world.”
“Don’t be selfish woman! This is our daughter. How can you even think of the trip at a time like this? Didn’t you see how devastated she was! She needs us and we’ll be there for her. This is her home and she was right to come.”
Her mother did not reply. Melanie proceeded to her room, her appetite suddenly gone. What was she to do now? It seemed that even at home she was unwanted. Melanie placed the plate of food on her bedside table, kicked off her boots and slipped into the bed fully clothed.
The bed had no bed sheets but she did not care. As soon as her head hit the pillow, Melanie shut her eyes and allowed the heavy lure of sleep to carry her with it.
When she next woke up, it was to a blinding light coming from the window. The sun had risen and on peering out, she estimated the time to be eleven. She must have been tired, Melanie thought, pushing her feet out of the bed. She washed her face and hands in her bathroom and returned to her room to change.
Her muscles ached and pained but a walk would straighten them out. She braced herself to face her parents again. In the hallway, a different but familiar voice reached her. Her hand flew to her mouth imprisoning the scream fighting to be let free. There was no mistaking the voice. It was Carter!
Chapter Eighteen
“I would say we had a good run with the ranch,” Melanie’s father was saying.
From the corner of his eye, Carter could see Melanie’s eyes on him. He was enjoying the visit, Carter thought
to himself, matter of fact; he hadn’t felt so relaxed in a long time. He rubbed his tummy, bulging with the breakfast he had wolfed down.
“Mrs. Marriot, you’re a wonderful cook. Shall you not miss it, you know, the cooking, the home?” Carter asked and sipped on his tea.
Mrs. Marriot, whose resemblance to Melanie was astonishing in its likeness, looked at him in surprise.
“Lord no!” she exclaimed and then chuckled. “I think we planned this trip on the day we got married. I shall enjoy canvassing across the world and seeing all those places one only gets to read about.”
He could see how Melanie would look like twenty years down the line and he liked it. Mrs. Marriott was beautiful.
“You will visit us in Montana?”
“Nothing could keep us away,” she assured him.
“I would love to see those longhorns,” Mr. Marriott said. “I’ve heard so much about them.”
“Oh, there’s plenty of them,” Carter assured him. “When do you leave?”
“In a week’s time,” Mrs. Marriot said pointedly.
“Well, by then Melanie and I will have returned home.”
He saw the jut of her chin and the blaze of her eyes and he readied himself.
“No, we’re not,” she said firmly.
“Oh yes we are,” Carter countered, his own jaw set firmly.
They glared at each other with no one backing down. Mr. Marriot cleared his throat.
“You must be quite tired Mr. Taft after your journey,” Mrs. Marriot said, amusement lurking in her eyes.
Carter stifled a yawn. “You’re right, I am.”
“Come on, I’ll show you to your room. You must stay with us for a few days, while you and Melanie uuhh…” her voice trailed off and she waved her hands helplessly in the air.
He blew a kiss at Melanie and obediently followed Mrs. Marriot. She showed him to a room with a comfortable bed and as soon as she left, he crept out and peeked into the rooms. The last one had yellow flowered wall paper, but most off all, it was full of Melanie’s perfume.
The bed was neatly arranged as were the clothes he could see hanging from the wardrobe. His body reacted when he spied the night dress, with tiny straps, that she had slept in.
Carter would have given anything to slip into the covers and fall asleep to the sweet scent of Melanie’s odor. He imagined Melanie as a little girl growing up in the room. He chuckled, thinking of her as a feisty little girl. He wanted to know everything about her, from her stories of growing up to her first time to get on a horse.
“She’ a wonderful girl and I would hate to see her hurt,” a deep voice boomed behind him.
It was Mr. Marriot and he looked stern as he searched Carter’s face. Carter inhaled sharply. He understood the man completely. If Melanie had been his daughter, he would be just as cautious.
“I made a few mistakes in my past Mr. Marriot but I promise you that I never intentionally hurt Melanie. If I could I could erase my past, but I can’t and Melanie and myself have to come to terms with it.”
Mr. Marriott stared at Carter pensively. “I believe you have my daughter’s best interests at heart. No matter what her mother says, I would cancel that trip in a blink of the eye if she needed me to be here,” Mr. Marriot said with feeling.
“She’s very lucky to have you,” Carter commented.
Then unexpectedly, Mr. Marriott chuckled. “I believe my daughter may have found her match. You won’t give up will you?”
Carter’s voice was solemn. “I can’t afford to. I love Melanie Mr. Marriot and I intend to spend the rest of my life proving it to her.”
Mr. Marriot stuck out his hand and Carter took it.
“I wish you all the best. Melanie is a stubborn young woman but even she has her weaknesses and I believe you’re one.”
They parted after that and Carter slipped into the guest room. He did not fall asleep immediately. He thought hard for the next couple of minutes. He needed a plan to counter Melanie’s coldness. For his plan to work, he needed to be patient. That would not be hard, Carter thought to himself. He liked Mr. and Mrs. Marriot’s and the longer he spent with them, the more he would understand Melanie.
She was a different woman from all the women he had ever known. For one, she kept her feelings close to her chest, guarding them like treasure. He found it difficult to read her feelings, and Carter badly wanted to remedy that.
Melanie never cried. He had expected her to be sobbing the day Stephanie dropped her news. But not Melanie. She was more concerned about an injustice done to a ‘young, inexperienced girl’. Still, Carter thought, Melanie did have a point. He had no business sleeping with a girl whose eyes were firmly on becoming the next Mrs. Taft.
His eyes heavy with sleep, Carter slept deeply, making up for all those nights on the train, when his emotions had been raw with Melanie’s loss.
Chapter Nineteen
Stephanie trudged towards Hoss’s ranch house. She got there just as the door swung shut and she hastened her steps. She was not sure why she had come but the last few weeks had been agony.
Neither Carter nor Hoss had gotten in touch with her and she felt like a ship floating adrift in the sea. She entered and quietly shut the door behind her. As she climbed the stairs, voices reached her and she identified Hoss’ voice as well as James’s. Her spirits lifted at the sound of his voice.
“You can’t just leave without telling Carter, you owe him that much,” James said.
“I can’t face him James, not after what happened,” Hoss said.
Silence filled the house. Stephanie did not move. She had no qualms about eavesdropping; after all she had not intentionally set out to do so.
“How could you, Hoss? Carter is our brother and he’s held us and the ranch together since our mother and father passed.”
“I know. Why do you think I feel so bad? It was wrong I admit, but I love her more than life itself. And Carter didn’t. He was just using her for his own pleasure.”
“That’s his business though? Besides, Stephanie wasn’t protesting was she?”
“Look,” Hoss said. “I have to go. I’ll write him a letter from New York.”
“Alright then, I suppose that will have to do,” James said. “Come here.”
She imagined the two brothers embracing. Stephanie thought back to Hoss’s words. It was the third time he was saying it. He loved her. The enormity of the understanding hit Stephanie and tears gathered in her eyes. She had only ever had men who wanted to sleep with her. Despite knowing that she could have been carrying Carter’s child, Hoss still loved her.
Footsteps walked down the hall and down the stairs. James looked at her as he walked down.
“Be good to him,” he said and touched her shoulder before walking out.
Stephanie wiped off her tears and started up the stairs. Hoss’s bedroom was a mess with clothes strewn all over the bed. She leaned on the doorway and watched him as he arranged clothes in a suitcase. He must have felt her presence because he looked up and met her eyes.
“Is it true what you said to James? That you love me more than life itself?”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Hoss mumbled.
“It matters to me.”
His eyes blazed as he looked at her. “Why? You love Carter, it’s him you want to marry, isn’t it?”
“I thought I did but knowing you has changed how I feel,” Stephanie said, voicing her true feelings. “It’s you I love Hoss. You’re gentle and sweet and honest.”
“What about the baby?” Hoss said.
“We’ll raise the baby believing that it’s mine and yours,” Stephanie said.
“The baby is not Carter’s,” Hoss said bluntly. “He told me himself that he had not slept with you in over two months so the baby could not possibly be his.”
Stephanie digested the piece of news. She did the math and saw the truth of Hoss’s statement. The paternity of her baby had been right there staring at her and she hadn’t seen it. The joy b
egan somewhere in her chest and then seeped to the rest of her. She was free of Carter! A huge smile covered her face. The truth was that she would rather Hoss as the father of her child. He was kind and sweet and would make a wonderful father.
“You’re the father of my baby!” Stephanie exclaimed.
“You look happy about that,” Hoss remarked, his features softening.
“I am,” Stephanie replied. “I would rather have a child with the man I love.”
Hoss grinned.
“So where are you off to?” she said, feigning ignorance.
“New York. I’m sure that James will convince Carter to buy out my share and I can buy a house there. It will probably be a big house, with lots of room for a baby. Perhaps even a nanny and a cook.”
Stephanie clapped her hands in glee. It all sounded marvelous but first she had to confirm that he meant what he was saying.
“Are you inviting me to come to New York with you?”
“You best believe I am. What do you say Stephanie? Let’s start afresh somewhere else and give our marriage a chance.”
Her eyebrow rose. “Marriage?”
“Yes,” Hoss said with mock patience. “I can’t very well take you with me as my mistress, can I? Besides I want a mother for my child and you’ll do,” he teased.
“Alright I accept,” Stephanie said her heart hammering. Nothing this exciting had ever happened in her life. She thought of all those years growing up in a poor house, something she had never confided in anybody. Stephanie had been dumped in the steps of the poor house on a cold winter morning. The nuns had told her how lucky she had been to survive those few hours outside before they found her.
She looked at Hoss now and took a deep breath.
“I was raised in a poor house,” Stephanie blurted out.
“Oh sweetheart, that must have been terrible,” Hoss said, concern writing itself on his face.
She shrugged. “It was better than others.”
“And you survived and turned out into a wonderful young woman. I bet those nuns would be proud if they saw you now.”
Romance: My Stepbrother's Plaything Page 45