Mel: Companion Book 5: The Cattleman's Daughters

by Danni Roan

  Mel

  Companion Book 5: The Cattleman’s Daughters

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  Chapter 1

  Melissa Middleton was not happy. It had already been two years and the man still couldn’t see the forest for the trees. She shifted restlessly on the window seat in her room, then with a sigh turned to gaze out the window.

  She wished Mae were with her but she was far away in Wyoming. Mae, her best friend and kindred spirit, would surely have had some idea what to do. She smiled, thinking about the black-haired beauty, the youngest James daughter, and hoped she would see her again. At the moment, however, she knew that Mae had her hands full with Melissa’s very own brother, Reese, so somehow she would have to sort her problems out on her own.

  Melissa Middleton was used to getting her own way and it chafed that none of her usual wiles had gained her heart’s desire. Although not mean, Melissa had grown up in Boston’s high society and privilege. She had learned at an early age how to get what she wanted without asking.

  This skill had proved invaluable, not only in life going her way on many occasions, but also in protecting her brother from unwanted attention and several narrow escapes from deceitful women. Often a kind word, a bright smile or a gentle touch would yield results with matrons, shopkeepers, and servants alike, smoothing the way for later favors.

  Somehow, however, this time was different. This this time nothing she did seemed to have any effect on the one person she wanted to please the most.

  How vividly she remembered that fateful day two Novembers ago when he had first entered her life.

  Boston, Massachusetts November 1890

  “Reese! Reese! Stop the cart!” Melissa’s words had her brother dragging on the reins, causing the horses steel-shod hooves to scrape and slide on the paving before she stopped speaking. “Look, that man needs help.”

  Together, Mae and Reese turned to look where Mel was pointing. A rather large man sat in the gutter, his head drooping low on his bare chest, streaks of blood standing out bright along his cheek and shoulder.

  As the horse’s hooves came to a clattering halt, Melissa jumped from the buggy and dashed to the man’s side. A second later Mae was beside her.

  “Ladies!” Reese cried, wrapping the reins around the buggy whip and racing after them. “You don’t know anything about this man; he could be dangerous.”

  “But he’s hurt.” Mae’s strange, innocent look pricked his heart.

  “I understand, Mae, but we don’t know anything about him.” Gently he rested his hand on her shoulder. “Mel, be careful,” he chided again, pushing Mae behind him as he reached for his sister.

  “Excuse me. Excuse me.” Melissa Middleton reached toward the man. Noticing a heavy coat and hat sitting next to him, she carefully lifted the coat and draped it around shoulders thick with ropes of muscle.

  “Uh?” the man lifted his head, tossing his thick black hair out of bruised eyes.

  “Are you alright?” Melissa leaned in letting the man focus on her face. “I’m Ms. Middleton. Can we help you?”

  “Nay miss,” the man’s voice was thick with an Irish accent. His nose had a thick scab across its bridge and purple rings puffed out his eyes.

  “Mel. Step away from him,” Reese barked. “He could be dangerous.”

  A deep throaty chuckle echoed from the man. “Aye, that I am sir, just not to ye.”

  “Reese, stop being a goose. This man needs help.”

  “We need to get him to the water.” Mae stepped up next to her friend and reached for the man’s arm. “What is your name, sir?” Her voice was clear and sharp. “Don’t waste my time now, what is your name?”

  “Cathal, I mean Carl. They call me Carl McHain.”

  Mae looked at her friend. “Mel, fetch a towel or cloth of some kind. Reese, get him up and help me get him to the water. Cold salt water will do him a world of good.”

  “Up you go, Mr. McHain,” Reese spoke, shaking his head even as he pulled the man’s arm over his own shoulders and helped him to his feet.

  “Aye, I’ll be alright,” the other man said, but draped an arm around Reese’s shoulders for support anyway, “I’ve had worse,” he mumbled.

  Mae, slipped the man’s other arm over her shoulder and together the threesome staggered toward a nearby dock.

  “Who did this to you?” Mae asked “You look like you’ve been run over by a mad bull.”

  Again a chuckle shook the man. “I did this to me-self,” he laughed, and Reese looked to Mae. Was the man mad?

  “You couldn’t do this to yourself.” Mae’s voice was sharp. “Someone has beaten you, it’s as plain as, well, as plain as the crooked nose on your face.”

  “Aye, lass it is but I still did it to me-self. I’m a rough-neck, I am, and my last fight I took a lickin’. I won mind you, but you can see the price.”

  As their boots clattered on the boards of the dock, Reese and Mae helped the man to sit. With another laugh, he moved to his knees, and with his hands still locked on the heavy planking lunged forward, submerging his head in the icy water.

  With a gasp, Mr. McHain pulled himself back up onto the dock and with a shake of his head, tossed his inky hair out of his eyes.

  Melissa came dashing across the wooden platform only to stop dead as the tall Irishman pulled himself out of the water, tossing a spray of water over his broad shoulders and thick chest, dampening the light smattering of dark hair visible there. As he turned his head, bright blue eyes met hers and a grin quirked the side of his mouth.

  “I’ve found a towel,” she said breathlessly.

  “Thank you, miss,” The big man spoke, rising to his feet and taking the dark rag from her hand.

  “Melissa, this man is boxer by trade, and I think we’ve taken enough of his time.” Reese’s voice was sharp.

  “Why would you do that?” she asked, stepping close to look at him, still somewhat stunned by his appearance.

  “It makes me money, and a goodly sum of it too,” he drawled.

  “Surely there are other jobs you can do that would also earn you a living,” said Mae, stepping into the conversation.

  “I do other work as well Miss. I unload ships.”

  “Then why do you fight?” Melissa and Mae echoed one another.

  “For my sister.” The answer was so straight forward, so direct, that it left them all blinking.

  “Ladies, go back to the buggy.” Reese’s voice was almost harsh with frustration, but even so it seemed to make no impact on them at all.

  “I will not have my sister working as a char in our new home of America,” Carl snarled, “She’s getting an education and the only way to pay for it is for me to fight.” He grinned wickedly for a moment. “Besides, it’s easy money.”

  “Reese, do something.” Melissa stepped up to her brother. “No man should have to take a beating to provide for his sister.” Her eyes were imploring.

  “Mel, what can I do? He’s a grown man and can do as he wishes.”

  Two sets of eyes fell on him and Reese shivered as bright green and dark brown eyes pinned him to the wharf.

  “There must be something,” Mel wheedled. “You’re bright, you’ll think of something.” She turned her gaze to the tall Irishman who was walking slowly up the dock, his lean muscled waist barely visible from under his coat.

&n
bsp; “If only he had a better job,” Mae spoke, then returned to chewing her lower lip. Reese couldn’t pull his eyes away from her quickly darkening mouth and he had to swallow before he could speak.

  “Yes, that’s it!” Mel squealed. “You can give him a job.”

  ***

  Reese had been true to his word, convincing their father to give the brawler a job and in short order Carl had proven he was more than muscle. He had a keen mind for numbers and almost immediately Melissa had started teaching him how to keep the books in her father’s import business.

  Melissa rose to her feet and paced her room. There had to be away to make this right.

  “Mel, Carl’s here,” her mother’s voice carried down the hall.

  “Coming, Mother,” she said, checking her appearance in the mirror. Her blond hair was piled high on her head, but soft waves fell near her temples, framing her face. She scowled, green eyes bright with irritation before she left the room.

  The morning air was crisp as around her the last bright visages of fall tumbled from the trees to the ground. It was almost Thanksgiving, almost the anniversary of when they’d first met.

  “It’s a fine morning,” Carl drawled, a hint of Irish lingering in his voice. Over the last few months he had been working on refining his accent to that of the business class. “You seem quiet this morning,” he commented as he drove them skillfully toward the shop.

  “I have a lot on my mind,” Melissa said, lifting her chin in an arrogant pose.

  Carl McHain raised a black brow and studied the girl next to him with cool blue eyes. Melissa Middleton was by far the most beautiful and most frustrating woman he had ever had the misfortune to meet.

  From the first day he had met her, she had been a blessing and a cruel burden to bear. “So what are we doing today?” he asked, trying to turn his mind away from a path it had travelled too many times already.

  “I thought we would go over the last of the inventory reports,” Melissa replied.

  “Aye, I mean, yes, that sounds like a good idea.” He glanced at her again, wondering what made her look so sad. “I suppose you are missing your brother while he’s away.”

  Melissa slumped on the bench seat of the high-wheeled cart. “Yes I do miss him, and Mae as well. We had so many adventures together.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be glad to get back to work when the time comes.”

  For a long moment Melissa stared at Carl, wondering if he meant what he’d said. “I don’t believe he will be returning,” she said. “I know he never wanted to stay in Boston. He’s always wanted to be away, and now with Mae…” she trailed off, thinking no explanation was needed.

  Carl smiled. “That girl will keep him on his toes, for sure,” he chortled, then grew serious. “But Reese will surely return for the business.” His brows drew together in puzzlement.

  “Carl,” Mel began, resisting the urge to lay her hand on his arm. “You have known Reese for nearly two years. Did his attitude or behavior ever impress on you that he cared at all about the business?”

  Carl McHain puzzled over the question for a few minutes as the horse began to slow. Reese was a good man, honest, and trustworthy, if perhaps a bit distracted by the entertainment that money could buy. He’d pulled Carl off the street, brought him out of a life of labor and pain, and made it possible for Carl to provide for his little sister as he’d never been able to before.

  Reese Middleton was what his parents would have called an honorable man, but he’d never shown any interest in the business his father owned. Yes, he’d taken Carl under his wing so to speak, helping him learn the ropes of the import-export trade, but to be honest, Reese had never seemed to enjoy any of it.

  Melissa watched Carl process her comment. It was obvious that Reese had never intended to stay. He’d even studied medicine at the university instead of the courses his father had wanted him to. As much as she loved her older brother, it was obvious that he was not cut out to follow in his father’s footsteps.

  “You have me there lass,” Carl finally replied, “He never seemed to like the work, that’s for certain sure.”

  It took them both a few moments to realize that their horse had come to a stop in front of her father’s offices. “Good thing Char knows his job,” Mel said with a smile, indicating the big roan horse.

  Carl laughed and the deep, rich rumble seemed to vibrate through her even as he stepped down from the cart and came around to help her down.

  “If Reese isn’t going to come back to run the business, who will manage it then?” the tall man asked as he helped her down.

  Melissa pinched up her mouth and glared at him.

  “But you’re a girl,” he said, gaining a slap across the forearm for his words.

  “Carl, sometimes you are so dense, it’s amazing you can even add sums.” She glared at him, her green eyes bright. “I’ve been doing most of the work for years now. Reese was always just the name behind it all.”

  Carl McHain lifted a brow. “That’s why after the first few weeks he let you start training me.” Comprehension finally dawned.

  “Put the horse up, please,” Melissa Middleton huffed, turning and walking through the front door.

  Chapter 2

  “I wonder what’s got her in a snit, Charlie?” Carl spoke to the horse as he led him into the tiny stable at the back of the shop.

  No items were actually sold from the offices. Instead, large trades and mergers were handled there by a variety of merchants and providers. Of course the daily bookkeeping, payrolls, and accounting was managed in the space, as well as a bustling correspondence department that kept in touch with the suppliers abroad.

  The Senior Mr. Middleton had worked hard to keep his business prosperous, a job he’d learned from his father and his father before him. It was a shame that Reese wasn’t interested in the source of the family’s wealth.

  Absently Carl threw some hay in the manger and gave the carthorse a pat. He could never truly understand why Melissa insisted on using the worst horse in the stable as her means of transport. The rugged looking old cob had a rust-colored head without a hint of white, while the rest of its chunky body was so covered in white hair as to be almost pink.

  Shaking his head, he turned toward the building and the office where he’d spend another day in the presence of his greatest joy and deepest anguish.

  Carl was grateful for the job he’d gained that cold November day when the Middleton’s path had converged with his. He now lived on their stunning estate in a small cottage with his sister Niamh and earned enough to provide nicely for the two of them.

  Melissa’s mother had even gone so far as to insist on sending Niamh to the best school in the city and had taken a special interest in the girl. He smiled, thinking of how close the girl had become to Melissa, like a sister.

  Stepping through the door, he glanced up at the two story office building to see Ms. Middleton gazing down at him. He started to lift a hand, then noted how sad she looked. He wished he could ease whatever burden vexed her, but it was not the place of a lowly hired man to offer comfort to someone like Melissa.

  Hanging his head, he trudged to the back door then up the stairs to the corner office.

  Melissa looked out the window, watching as Carl stabled Charlie. The ugly horse was one of her strongest connections to Mae and Reese. The strawberry roan with the medicine-hat face had been rescued from a life of pain and cruelty by the two of them in the same manner they’d collected Carl, with open hearts.

  Her eyes followed the black-haired man as he came to the door of the stable. He looked handsome in his charcoal coat and white shirt. His skin had never lost that sun-kissed look and his black hair shone in the sun.

  She froze as he turned his blue eyes toward her, suddenly looking concerned as he half-lifted a hand in greeting. Her heart turned in her chest as she gulped for air.

  Forcing herself away from the window she stamped her foot in frustration. One way or another she’d make the ma
n notice her. She just had to figure out how.

  The work day did not proceed well. Melissa was irritable and sharp at every interruption. She found herself picking at the tiniest things and grumbling each time Carl asked her a question. Yet he never became peevish with her, snapped back, or chastised for her attitude. It was infuriating.

  “I’ve had enough for one day,” Mel finally said as the clock struck two. “I’m going home,” she added, closing the book she’d been examining with a snap.

  “I’ll get Char and drive you.” Carl stood, lifting his jacket from the back of his chair.

  Melissa glared at him even as she watched the play of muscles beneath his shirt. “I’m quite able to see myself home, thank you.” Her sharp tones filled the office and she tried to quiet her voice.

  “It will only take a moment,” the man spoke, his voice an irritatingly, reasonable, drone.

  “I said I can take care of myself,” Melissa all but shouted, snatching her reticle from the back of her chair and heading down the stairs. A moment later she marched through the door and started up the street.

  Carl raced down the stairs after her, but in the time he’d shrugged into his coat and grabbed his hat, she’d disappeared. Fear thudded in his throat at the thought of Melissa alone in the city. It wasn’t that the woman couldn’t take care of herself, at least in many situations, but she didn’t know the meandering streets nearly as well as she believed she did and if she wandered into the wrong areas… He shivered at the thought.

  Boston was an old city for his new home of America and its streets had been unplanned. Over the years old cow paths and trails had eventually turned to streets, but they were seldom straight and often misleading.

  Frantically he looked left, then right, hoping to catch a glimpse of the deep jade dress she’d worn that day. Closing his eyes, he let out a deep breath and turned to the left, hoping she’d headed toward home.

  Carl’s stiff shoes made a soft clacking sound as he walked briskly up the street, taking a turn that followed the curve of the hill. With a sigh of relief, he spotted Ms. Middleton talking to a blonde gentleman in an expensive suit.