Mail Order Melanie

by Ginny Sterling

  “Oh, she’s a feisty one,” the sheriff murmured appreciatively as Melanie looked on in horror. This was some wedding!

  “I won’t have you besmirching…” Sally began and Chance interrupted, stepping forward and pushing her finger right into his cheek.

  “Ma’am,” he began firmly. “I run a clean bar. When a lone woman stares at another man like he’s a piece of meat and she starts talking about ‘peddling flesh’,” he said quietly, nodding his head towards where the sheriff was grinning like a loon. “Then the likely assumption is not one that I cater to – so I was squashing any assumptions right then and there. I meant no insult.”

  Sally glared at him for several minutes, before withdrawing her finger from where it had been pressed against the man’s cheek. She balled her hand up into a fist and Melanie saw Chance’s jaw clench as if he was bracing himself to get slugged by the older woman only seconds before Sally chuckled tightly. It almost made her smile to see the man tense up, only it was a sign he’d been struck before after speaking his thoughts aloud.

  “I like you, boy,” Sally admitted. “I like someone that is strong enough to say what they mean and stand up for themselves – even in the face of danger. Make no mistake, you imply that again and it will be dangerous. Are we clear?”

  Sally turned to Melanie with a slanted glance.

  “You sure you want to do this?”

  Melanie looked at Chance, a perfect stranger, and his dark eyes held hers. She didn’t see anything cruel or mean about him. He was blunt, candid, quiet, and somber – everything her previous husband was not. He might not be the smiling, laughing man she’d hoped for, but maybe with time they could become friends. That would be more than enough.

  I hope, she prayed silently.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter 4

  Chance had seen the woman disembark from the stage and hesitated. She looked extremely plain in a way that took him by surprise. There was no glamour to her, just a wholesome, steadfast expression that wasn’t really eye-catching. Truthfully, he wouldn’t have even noticed her except for the fact that she was standing by the stage trying to keep her skirts from showing her boots as the warm Texas breeze happened to catch the material just right.

  His Beth had been breathtaking. Bright blond hair, winning smile, and dancing eyes that made you want to stare into them for hours. The woman before him was none of that… and apparently sickly. He watched as she grabbed her stomach and darted into the alley way.

  Perhaps that wasn’t his mail order bride?

  Discouraged, he watched another woman disembark and realized she was very nearly twice his age. It never dawned on him to specify that he was a young man nearing thirty. He felt a keen bit of disappointment as he suddenly knew he’d tied himself deep down inside to someone that would be just exactly what he’d asked for: a person to care for his child.

  There would never be any deep sudden desire – not like what he had with Beth. No passionate kisses, no laughter under the covers, no sweet and tender glances between them. Another pang of longing and misery hit him like a ton of bricks. He missed his wife terribly and still couldn’t believe she was gone. Amelia was all he had left and whomever it was getting off that coach was here for her – not him.

  Stepping forward to greet the two women, he hoped there was a third candidate getting off the stage for him and saw it was only another man. He peered around the corner and heard the woman spitting and letting out a soft moan. He felt bad for her. He’d done the very same thing after burying his wife. Saying goodbye to Beth had made him violently ill – and he was feeling the stirrings of it again.

  This is for Amelia, he kept reminding himself silently.

  Swallowing hard, he stepped forward to the entrance of the alleyway where she hid away from curious eyes. He couldn’t blame her for that in the slightest.

  “Miss? Are you alright?” he asked quietly, trying to be polite. She glanced over her shoulder and hesitated long enough to make him wonder if she was about to be ill once again. Instead, she cleared her throat and put her nose up in the air…almost looking vexed that he’d even asked about her. This surprised him.

  “Yes, travel makes me ill. My apologies,” she said stiffly with a nod. “Thank you for checking on me.”

  “Certainly,” he replied before stepping back to let her pass. She was one cold fish and a little uppity, he realized, making him wonder about the other woman. He hoped Amelia would be treated with love and kindness, not arrogance and snobbery. Stepping back onto the stoop of his bar, he peered inside to see if anyone needed a refill on their drink and to make sure things were smooth. It had been a long time since he had to settle any skirmishes and preferred to keep it that way. Folding his arms across his chest, he stood there waiting and watching as the two women sat beside each other on the bench talking.

  Chance wasn’t keen on either of the candidates and having a serious bout of second thoughts at the moment. This is for Amelia, he chanted mentally as he saw the sheriff and pastor headed his way.

  “You sure about this, Chance? Beth’s not even cold yet,” Pastor Franklin said softly as he walked up to him. “I understand, but I want to be sure this is what you want.”

  “This is for my daughter, that’s all.”

  “Leave the man alone, padre,” the sheriff said bluntly, clapping the other man on the back. “It would do him good to get back on the ol’ horse.”

  “I don’t plan on it being anything other than a marriage of convenience.”

  “Your bride might have other plans.”

  “Plans change,” Chance retorted tightly, looking at the two women. “Let’s get this over with so I can get back to work. Thank you again, Robert, for offering to take my new bride to the house. I think it would be best if she got settled and explored her home without me there.”

  “I think you ought to be there to introduce her to your daughter.”

  “Rebecca is bringing her over later when I get there – so I will be introducing her to Amelia when I get home,” he explained, glancing at the women nervously. His palms were sweating at this moment and he wasn’t so sure anymore that this wasn’t a mistake. He needed to take all emotion, all fear and trepidation, out of his being and treat it like the event it was.

  A simple transaction.

  “You are sure about this, Chance?”

  “Let’s just get it over with.”

  The trio walked over towards the post where the women sat on the bench. Chance’s heart hammered in his chest as he saw Robert address the two of them. The younger woman who’d been ill was clenching a handkerchief in her hands while the other lady was practically ogling the sheriff – quite blatantly too. If she was Melanie – they were going to have to talk about modesty and appearances.

  “Melanie Wesson?” Robert began, eyeing the older of the two women who was preening under his gaze. She actually looked the sheriff up and down like she was eyeing a piece of horseflesh. Chance swallowed hard in alarm. If this was Melanie, he might actually back out of this. He didn’t want to be married again any more than he wanted to be laughed at by others for his wife’s illicit antics about town.

  “I am Melanie Wesson,” the younger woman admitted, getting to her feet, and he felt a wave of relief hit him.

  “May I help you, sheriff?”

  “I’m here to witness your marriage that our dear padre is going to host. Then I’m going to run you out to your new home as a favor to ol’ Chance here,” Robert said casually, tossing a thumb in Chance’s direction.

  “You’ll need a second witness, won’t you, sheriff?” the other woman interjected.

  “Yes ma’am,” Robert said with a smile, staring at her. “Smart and lovely.”

  “Cut it out, Robert,” Chance interrupted with a weary sad smile, pushing his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Robert had always been a huge flirt with the ladies about town and had pestered him a few times about bringing on evening doves to work above the bar. Chance had refused
the man more than once and was glad it didn’t affect their friendship.

  He shoved his hands in his pocket and fished out a small simple band that had once been his grandmother’s, then his mother’s, and finally Beth’s. It would now go to his new wife and someday to his Amelia. It made him ill to think of sliding it onto another woman’s finger, but it was a family token to be passed down. He handed the filigree band to the pastor with a sigh.

  “Let’s step inside and get this done,” Chance said quietly.

  “I won’t be marrying you in a saloon,” Melanie whispered, looking horrified.

  “I meant here,” Chance said flatly, pointing at the building that served as a stage and post office. “I thought you might prefer a bit of privacy rather than saying our nuptials in the street.”

  “Oh.”

  “Get inside dearie; I married my husband in a stable,” the older woman whispered, grabbing her by the elbow and pulling her aside. “You take what you can and move on. It’s a man’s world and truthfully, he’s being thoughtful of your privacy.”

  “He peddles alcohol,” his new bride whispered loud enough for him to hear it as they stepped into the building. Chance winced and felt his temper flare. Truthfully, he wasn’t too keen on getting remarried in the first place, much less having a new bride griping already. Beth had always suggested he turn the saloon into a mercantile or a hotel, but neither was needed in the small town. The saloon kept business steady.

  “Better than flesh,” the older woman countered with a glare over her shoulder. “Right?”

  That was it!

  He felt his temper flare; balling his fists at his side, he stared at the two of them, their heads huddled together. He saw his bride-to-be look at him in alarm like he was going to actually hurt her? He’d never laid a hand on a woman before and had no intention of doing so. The fact that she’d reared back made him that much more upset.

  “Ma’am, I don’t harbor any women like that in my place,” Chance bit out, his cheeks flushed slightly and his lips pressed hard together. He was going to keep his calm and the look in Melanie’s eyes bothered him more than he cared to admit. He wanted his new bride to be proud that he was a good provider and worked hard. “I don’t cotton to that, so if you are headed there for work…?”

  “Excuse me?” The woman smarted, straightening up as if she was going to tower over him. Chance was six-foot-tall and not a small fellow in the slightest. She took two steps towards him, shoving a finger in his face. “Listen here, boy…”

  “Oh, she’s a feisty one,” Robert whispered under his breath beside him.

  “I won’t have you besmirching…” she began angrily and he was not going to let her or anyone else berate him in front of his bride. He had nothing to hide and nothing to be ashamed of. If this was how things were going to go down – he might back out. His bride, Melanie, was watching them closely.

  “Ma’am,” Chance interrupted. “I run a clean bar. When a lone woman stares at another man like he’s a piece of meat and she starts talking about ‘peddling flesh’ then the likely assumption is not one that I cater to – so I was squashing any assumptions right then and there. I meant no insult.”

  She glared at him for several minutes, before she balled her hand up in a fist. If she struck him, he would leave. Period. He would never harm a woman and if this older woman was wild enough to actually hit him, he didn’t want to have anything to do with either of them. It was obvious they had become friends during the trip because they were whispering together and holding each other’s arms.

  “I like you, boy,” she said flatly. “I like someone that is strong enough to say what they mean and stand up for themselves – even in the face of danger. Make no mistake, you imply that again and it will be dangerous. Are we clear?”

  She then turned to Melanie.

  “You sure you want to do this?”

  His bride to be looked at him and he stared back bluntly. This was who he was – take it or leave it. He was a saloon owner, a father, and in need of a bride. He didn’t love her and didn’t want to be doing this – but was anyway. He wasn’t going to hide who he was or what he thought. He didn’t expect love but hoped someday for a friendship that wouldn’t be tainted with other’s opinions or predispositions. If his bride was swayed that easily, it was better to know now.

  As he looked at Melanie, he realized that she had kind eyes, making him wonder how she would be with Amelia, and found himself holding his breath as he waited for her answer.

  “Yes,” Melanie whispered, not looking away from him.

  Nodding tightly, Chance relaxed his stance and Pastor Franklin stepped forward to begin speaking as he read from a page in the bible. This wasn’t like his wedding to Beth where they were married in a church surrounded by those that they loved.

  No, this was a transaction born of necessity and they were just getting the job done so he could get back to work. He would not besmirch Melanie’s name nor taint his daughter’s future with gossip. Two minutes later, they were married.

  Chance leaned down and kissed Melanie on the cheek quickly, before nodding.

  “Thank you,” she breathed, looking up at him.

  Chance hesitated, surprised.

  Why was she thanking him?

  Was she glad he didn’t kiss her on the lips? He couldn’t bring himself to do so and was glad she didn’t expect it. Staring down at the young lady before him, he was taken aback to see that her eyes were extremely light brown like caramel candies, and wondered if she could be as sweet?

  “Of course,” he said quietly, searching her gaze before looking away. “Robert will take you to your new home so you can settle in. I will be there in a few hours once I finish up at work.”

  “Certainly.”

  It caught him by surprise to see she looked a little relieved at the chance to be alone and he wondered again what was going through his bride’s mind. He hoped she wasn’t expecting a wedding night between them because that would never happen, he thought. They might need to talk once he got home about what each of them anticipated their future to be like.

  Melanie was relieved that she was going to have time alone to think and process what an upheaval her life had been as of late. She was still reeling from the fact that she’d actually cried earlier and a little afraid to do so again. This was all just a lot to handle and she was touched that he’d kissed her on the cheek instead of the lips.

  They were strangers to each other and all she was used to was Herbert’s pawing. As they’d said their vows, she remembered back to her own wedding and how he’d practically shoved his tongue into her mouth – shocking her to the core. Herbert had always been impulsive and boisterous, where she was quiet and sedate. She liked calm, she craved peace, and truthfully? She’d anticipated the worst from her new groom.

  She’d been touched that he’d kissed her softly on the cheek.

  It was an unexpected gentleness from him that was intriguing. She’d also been surprised to take a deep breath of his aftershave, smelling sandalwood and something else that was clean on him. It was faint but made her want to lean in and take a deeper breath, something that made her stomach flutter nervously.

  Her new husband, Chance, stepped away and signed his name on a register before nodding to her. Unsure of what to do, she stood there for a moment before the sheriff took her by the elbow, ushering her forward. Melanie jerked her arm away, reeling at how Herbert used to do that to her. Chance’s eyebrows raised in surprise at her actions and she quickly signed her name beside his, staring at her signature.

  Melanie Wesson Mitchell

  She was married – again.

  Looking up, she realized her new husband had stepped out the door into the evening, leaving her there with the pastor, Sally, and the sheriff.

  “C’mon ladies, let’s get you both settled in safely for the evening. I’ll be giving Mrs. Mitchell a ride home if you are wanting a ride out somewhere too?”

  “Yes,” Sally said breathlessl
y with a smile that made Melanie roll her eyes. “I’ll be heading to my younger sister’s home, Rebecca Buck.”

  “Perfect – you two will be neighbors I guess,” the sheriff said with a smile towards them both as they looked at each other in surprise. “The Bucks have a small farm not too far away from where Chance’s place is. In fact, his daughter, Amelia, is currently being watched by your sister,” he grinned – looking at Melanie.

  “That’s why you are here. He needs someone to care for his infant daughter.”

  “Did you know he had a child?” Sally questioned.

  “I did,” Melanie confirmed, laying a hand on her stomach subconsciously as she thought of her own child growing secretly in her womb. “I love children and that is part of the reason I accepted the offer.”

  “Ladies? Shall we head out?”

  Melanie nodded, picking up her bag and following the two of them out into the evening. The sun was setting quickly and the faint orange hues were long gone, replaced with a periwinkle that was deepening by the moment. It would be pitch dark by the time she got settled in and Chance returned to his home. She hoped that would give her enough time to get her bearings and maybe make herself something to eat for dinner… before she got too hungry and made herself ill again.

  Melanie broke off a mint leaf and popped it in her mouth – just in case.

  Chapter 5

  Chance’s home was on the outskirts of town, down a long country road, away from everything. It surprised her at how rural the area was considering he worked right there on the main street. She almost expected him to have a room there above the bar or not far from the location. This was unexpected and welcomed. There was solitude and privacy out here. The home looked like a black blip on the horizon, growing only slightly larger as they got closer. It wasn’t much, but it was now hers.

  A large sprawling porch wound its way around the front and one side of the home. Large glass windows had the transoms open at the top, allowing a breeze through the house. She saw that it was only one story and didn’t look very large, but there was a root cellar on the side of the building. A small barn was just off to the side, maybe twenty feet from the house, as well as a chicken coop. It was homey and a little forbidding.