He lifted his bride from the wagon and placed a palm under her elbow. “Let’s go do our business.”
A pregnant hush fell when they entered the bank. Faces turned toward Melody with the trepidation folks felt for an approaching tornado.
The banker set his jaw in a grim line. “May I help you, Miss Williams?”
“Name’s Mrs. McBride now. Been married three days,” Mitch stated with pride.
Two women listening by the door shot into the street like they’d been stuffed in a cannon. Mitch laughed as the door swung shut with a clang. “Good as a formal announcement,” Mitch whispered into his wife’s ear.
Melody approached the teller’s window with a stiff back and head high. “I’d like to make a deposit,” she declared.
“All right,” the banker said.
Mitch gave the man credit. He kept his face perfectly still even though the man knew three days ago she’d been flat busted.
“Should I add your husband’s name to this account?” the banker asked.
“No,” Mitch replied. “The money belongs to my wife.”
Again, the banker’s face stayed stone still. Mitch admired his grit. He’d be hell at a poker table. A fella would never know what he thought.
Melody retrieved the draft from her small purse and pushed it across the counter. “Please deposit this in the Bar W account. My brother has passed. Remove his name from the account and replace it with mine, Melody Williams McBride.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” the banker replied. He pulled a journal from beneath the counter and recorded the check. He handed Melody a receipt.
“Thank you.” Melody accepted the slip of paper and turned to go.
Mitch pressed his lips into a straight line and raised a single eyebrow. In three short days, he’d learned this particular look brought his bride up short. He’d use it sparingly.
Melody swiveled toward the counter once more. “I’m sorry for my behavior the other day,” she stated. Mitch’s expression had not changed. She soldiered on.
“There was no excuse for the loss of my temper. You did not deserve it, and I am sorry.”
Mitch smiled, and Melody heaved a sigh of relief.
“I appreciate the apology, Mrs. McBride. I try my best to honor the trust of all my depositors,” the banker asserted.
Mitch took possession of her elbow and guided her out the door. “That was a fence well mended,” Mitch praised.
He lifted Melody into the wagon, and his shrill whistle brought Chase running. With the dog settled in the back and his wife snug on the seat, Mitch turned the wagon towards Journey’s End.
“We should be home for supper,” he declared. “I wonder who’s cooking tonight.”
“When will you talk to Candy?” Melody asked.
“I’ve been thinking that over. Saturday,” he declared. “I’ll go Saturday.”
“No, Mitch, go tomorrow,” she wailed.
“Settle down, Melody.” When her back took on the look of a cat aiming to hiss, he laid a hand on her thigh. “I’ve been gone the better part of three days. Ever since we married, in fact, and it’s not fair to the other men at Journey’s End. There’s a lot of work to do every day, and they’re carrying that burden without me. I plan to do my share the rest of the week, and I hope you’ll help the women with their chores and the children need looking after.”
“I never learned how to cook or do housework. We always had Belinda,” Melody whined. “I won’t know what to do.”
“Caroline and Ellie can show you. They’re mighty nice, and it’s only right you do your share while you’re here,” he explained.
“All right, I’ll try,” Melody said but the little lines in her forehead revealed doubt.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” A tiny flower of hope bloomed in his chest. If Melody spent some time at Journey’s End and got to know the other families, she’d see how special the place was. She’d want to stay, be a part of it, be his wife in all ways. He was sure of it. He wanted to be sure of it. Well, he hoped it would happen. To show his appreciation, he patted her thigh two, three, four times. Who was he kidding? He patted her thigh because he took every opportunity he could find to touch her – lifting her in and out of the wagon, holding her arm as they crossed the street, cupping her elbow as she climbed stairs. He was fixing to steal a kiss, but a man had to go about that kind of robbery with care.
“The other reason is that Saturday night is always busy in a saloon. Less chance for me to be noticed or recognized,” he said. “I’ll talk to Candy.”
“How? She works upstairs,” Melody pointed out.
“I’ll pay for her time same as any man,” he said.
“What?” Melody shrieked. Indignation rang in her voice. “How could you? We’ve only been married three days.”
“Settle down, sweetheart. If I go upstairs with her, we’ll have privacy to talk. That’s all I aim to do, talk.” A thrill ran down his spine when she didn’t mind being told to settle. It was a gentle reminder, after all. A second thrill ran up his spine at the sign of jealousy. That made his heart and parts further south soar.
Lars and Sven stood on the porch of the smaller cabin each with a child in their arms when Mitch’s wagon rolled in.
“Howdy,” Sven called. “Supper’s ready soon.”
“Girls have a big pot of stew on the stove and fresh bread in the oven,” Lars added.
Mitch jumped down from the wagon and lifted Melody to the ground. He let her graze his body as he lowered her. He was as randy as a boy, but he had a man’s appetite.
Melody rushed toward the door. “I’ll go see how I can help.”
He watched as her bottom swished right and left and disappeared into the cabin. Climbing back onto the wagon seat, he snapped the reins, and headed for the barn.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t eat all the stew,” he shouted.
The families gathered around a long table and ate in satisfied silence. Every now and again a child needed a hand with a spoon or spilled their milk, but quiet help soon set all to rights. The men took all the children outside after supper. The older ones threw sticks for Chase and the smaller ones sat on a blanket with a pile of blocks.
“We got it all sorted at Melody’s ranch. Her foreman will run the place for a while,” Mitch explained to the other men. “We found a note to a woman named Candy. We think she works at the Golden Garter. I aim to ride to Oakville next Saturday and have a word with her. She might know something about Melody’s brother.”
“Don’t worry about your bride while you’re gone. We’ll keep an eye on her for you,” Lars assured him.
“Much obliged,” Mitch said. The women drifted one-by-one out of the cabin. They all sat and enjoyed the cool evening air, played with the children, and discussed the tasks that awaited on the morrow.
Darkness descended and the families headed indoors to settle small ones and find their beds.
The men rode out early each morning and returned hot, tired and hungry. Every evening Melody greeted him with a smile and a story. She had cared for the children, changed diapers, given baths, learned how to make biscuits, churned butter and gathered eggs with Micah.
After supper on Saturday, Mitch pulled her onto his lap. “You know, sweetheart, you haven’t been in a temper all week. I think you were just plain bored on your ranch growing up and needed to blow off steam.”
“I think you’re right. My pa always said settle down, Melody and go find something to do, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Belinda didn’t need me, and Pa and Clay always had purpose and plans. I like doing things that count.” She rewarded him with a brilliant smile.
“Maybe that’s why you hate that word settle. He wasn’t asking for you to be thoughtful or quiet. Your pa was telling you to go away.” He planted a kiss on the top of her golden curls.
“I’m heading for Oakville soon.”
“I know.” Melody snuggled close. “I’d still like to go.”
Mitch circled his arms tighter and laid a soft kiss on her cheek. “It just wouldn’t work. I’d worry about you and not be able to do what we need done. I’ll tell you every word Candy said when I get back.”
“I understand,” she sighed. “I just don’t like it.”
“Do you want to sleep at the big house? If you want to sleep at home, I can leave Chase. He’ll set up a big ruckus if anyone comes close.” Mitch presented the choice and held his breath. In the past, she’d have stamped her foot and declared she’d sleep wherever she damn well pleased.
“I’ll sleep at home,” she answered.
Mitch gave his low whistle and the big dog trotted to his side. “Guard Melody, Chase.”
Chase sat with his head held tall and proud. He lifted one front paw and placed it on Melody’s leg.
“Good boy,” Mitch pulled out a piece of jerky he kept in his pocket. Chase sank to the porch and nibbled at the treat held between his front paws.
“You’ll be safe. Chase won’t leave your side until I release him.” Mitch stood with Melody in his arms. After brushing a light kiss across her lips, he set her in the chair they had shared.
As the sun sank over the hills in a shower of blue and pink, Mitch swung into his saddle and turned toward Oakville.
Chapter 8
Melody’s eyes drifted shut, snapped open and floated shut once more as she struggled to stay alert.
“Let’s go for a walk, Chase.” The dog uncoiled from the floor, leaned over his front paws in a long-limbed stretch and came to her side. They stepped outside, the dog so close to her side the heat of his lean body penetrated the fabric of her skirt. His elegant red head swung right and left as he observed the world with vigilant intent. Melody ruffled the soft hair with her fingers. Tight tension unraveled in her breast. Mitch had been right. Having Chase was a comfort.
Returning inside she prepared a cup of hot coffee and sat in the big chair next to the fireplace. Chase lay down and placed his nose on her foot. She sipped the dark liquid and continued her vigil. She planned to hear about Candy and her relationship to her brother as soon as Mitch returned.
A warm hand gave her shoulder a gentle shake. “You must be freezing, Melody. Why aren’t you in bed?” Mitch peered at her, concern plain in his gaze. After all that trouble to stay awake, she’d fallen asleep. Chase lifted his nose from her foot and flopped on his side.
Her insides twisted and turned and flipped and flopped. The warmth of his hand penetrated deep. Damn. Her husband was a handsome man. A tingling set up between her thighs until she squirmed to relieve it, but it didn’t seem to help any. She sighed.
“I wanted to wait up for you. What time is it? What did you find out? Did you take Candy upstairs?” She shot questions like bullets from a Gatling gun.
Mitch laughed. “It’s three in the morning. I want to get you warm, and then I’ll answer all your questions.”
She wanted to protest, stamp her foot and demand answers, but he was right. She shivered with the cold, and the clacking of her teeth echoed through the frigid air. Mitch was already at the fire adding wood and rearranging logs until a blaze of warmth entered the room. He draped her favorite shawl over her legs and ran his hand up her thigh.
“Better?” he asked.
“Much. Thank you.” That hand sliding up her leg sent a sharp new awareness slicing like a hot knife through butter. She craved that hot knife something fierce. She tilted toward him. Straining, reaching for something. Something she was sure he could provide.
“I won’t take you until you ask me, but I’d like to love you.” He lifted her from the chair and laid her in front of the fire. His hand slid to the hem of her dress and the fabric slid over her calves and up her thighs, “Want to take this silly old dress off?” he asked.
She regarded him through lust-drenched eyes and nodded.
“Turn over,” he whispered. He pulled on her right hip until she lay poised on her side. With a tiny push, she fell to her stomach.
Hands, warm and strong, ran down her spine to her waist and flared over her hips. They made the return journey pushing over her buttocks, trailing their way to her waist, and up her back. Down came his hands and back up again and again. Her body rocked under his attention like a ship on a stormy sea. The motion left her craving, needy, empty. She pressed her pelvis into the floor.
The buttons at the back of her dress opened, and cool air kissed her skin. Warm lips branded her now bare back. When the bodice of her dress pulled free, he tapped her side.
“Lift up, sweetheart,” Mitch instructed.
Melody lifted her hips, and her dress was swept to the floor. She lay in her bloomers and chemise covered in a fine sheen of sweat and waited for what might come next. Excitement shot down her limbs like a lightning strike. Strong hands rolled her onto her back.
“Arms up,” Mitch said. Her chemise rose up and over her head. Her breasts now uncovered; her nipples rose to hard peaks.
“Lord have mercy,” Mitch sighed. “You are a beautiful woman.”
With one hand, he slid her drawers down her legs and over her feet. He dropped his head to her breast and pulled a rosy nipple into his mouth. His hand rested on the curve of her abdomen telegraphing heat and desire. She squeezed her legs together to ease the need wet and pulsing there while his hungry mouth courted first one nipple and then the other.
She answered the question of his hand between her thighs by dropping her knees open. Through her daze, she heard his groan. Melody wound her arms around his neck and held on tight.
His fingers spread her wide and stroked her length spreading the honey of her desire. She strained toward his hand until, after an eternity of silent begging, he slid a long finger into her channel and pressed. Her body was a bow strung tight. An arrow lay on her strings cocked and eager to fly.
He dropped into the V between her legs and feasted on the banquet he’d prepared. Pressing his tongue against the bud of her heat, she writhed and buried her hands in his hair pulling him closer still.
Then, the arrow flew. She trembled and throbbed. Her pelvis rising, falling and rising again to meet the thrust of his fingers and of his tongue. When at last the storm passed, she lay quiet and spent in his arms.
Mitch drew her into the curve of his body and surrounded her breast with his work calloused hand. His thumb idly rubbed her nipple and returned it to a stiff peak. Melody pressed her bottom into the hardness pulsing in her husband’s pants.
Mitch laid a playful spank on her thigh. “Stop that,” he growled into her ear. “It’s hard enough to stop as it is without you provoking me.” His hand rubbed up and down the length of her thigh. “Sven and Lars swear they lay with their wives once, and their women fell pregnant. I won’t risk it unless we choose marriage for life. I want you to stay, Melody. I surely do, but not because you’re with child.”
“You’re right, Mitch. We need to find Clay’s killer, and then see where we stand.” She pulled her bottom from the cradle of his legs and flopped to her back. “Tell me about Candy and the Golden Garter. Don’t leave anything out.”
Mitch sat up cross-legged and covered his wife up to her chin with a blanket. “That’s as much for me as you.” He gave a dark laugh.
“Tell me, please.” Melody fixed him with a demanding gaze.
“Well, I got there about ten o’clock. The place was full of every kind of man: ranchers, drifters, cowboys, lumberjacks, farmers. A line of men stood at the bar drinking, talking, and deciding, I reckon, on how deep they planned to play.” He paused to push a strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “I joined them and ordered a beer. It’s easy to nurse a beer along, and I wanted to keep my wits about me,” he explained. “That Golden Garter has quite a gambling set-up. There’re tables of poker. Another table played twenty-one with a dealer from the house. Even a roulette wheel spun around. The dealer had a long stick, and he’d rake in the money after every spin. It’s easy to see how a man could get in too deep.”
“Did you talk to Candy?” she asked.
“I was getting to the women. They drifted about the room sitting on a lap or two here and there. Bringing drinks to men already drunk. Climbing the stairs with a man dogging their heels.” He reached over her and stroked Chase as he lay stretched out beside his bride. “Truth to tell, women selling themselves has always made me sad. They’re smaller and weaker and need protection not being pawed over by one fella after the next. Some of those girls in the Golden Garter were hardly more than children.” He swallowed hard. “How did they wind up in such a state? Where are their folks?” Anger coursed through his words.
“I never gave it much thought,” Melody admitted. “When I was old enough to understand why women worked in the saloon, it just seemed a fact like summer follows spring. Nothing you could do about it. I always knew I would never end up there myself. My father wouldn’t allow it. I guess you’re right. Those women are probably alone in the world without money or help.”
A long sigh slid past his lips. “Well, I stood there with my beer, and a few of those ladies in their flimsy dresses sidled my way. They surely know how to get a man’s attention with a hand laid on your chest or a peek down their dress and eyes that promise, well, anything I guess. Men’s tastes run in all directions.”
“Did you find Candy?” She brought his attention back to the task at hand.
“I did,” he said. “A skinny little gal with black hair, pale skin and wide blue eyes came trailing down the stairs. A big man stood behind her on the landing buckling his belt, and I guessed he’d been her last customer.” He rubbed his hand down her arm and gave a little pat. “Once when I was hunting I had a deer in my sights, and that deer just froze and stared at me with big frightened eyes. That doe seemed to know her time had come, and she waited patient like for me to strike. Well, I couldn’t do it. I waved my hat in the air and hollered. She woke with a start and leapt away in that graceful way a deer has. I went hungry that night, but I wasn’t sorry. That little gal on the stairs looked just like that. Scared, resigned, waiting for the ax to fall.”
Melody (Journey's End Book 2) Page 6
