Harmony (Journey's End Book 3) Page 12

  “I hope you like what I asked for,” he murmured into Harmony’s ear. “I thought we needed something other than chicken.”

  “I was grateful for it,” she said, “but I agree.”

  They dined on roast beef stewed with potatoes and carrots, green beans, fresh bread, and freshly churned butter. At the end of the meal, the waitress returned with a bottle of wine and a small cake.

  “To my new sister,” Mitch raised his glass, “and her husband. I wish you happy years and happy hearts.” Glasses clinked.

  When Matt and Harmony cut the cake with a special knife provided by the hotel, the other customers clapped and cheered and wished them well. They sipped the wine until the bottle was empty.

  “I’m sorry to end this lovely party, but we need to speak with the sheriff. It’s hanging heavy on my mind,” Matt explained. When the two couples left the café, men’s stares followed like a compass seeking north. He’d have to get used to the attention. He didn’t much like so many men staring at his wife. Harmony alone drew her share of lusty gazes, but the two of them side-by-side hit a fella like a thunderbolt. He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

  “We’ll go for a walk,” Mitch declared and took possession of his wife’s hand. “Go get clear with the law.”

  Matt and Harmony watched as the pair strolled away. “Come on, darlin’. Our information might help catch those murdering thieves.”

  The newlyweds crossed the dusty street and walked until they reached the building with barred windows at the side. A long, lonely face stared through the iron grill. His eyes were red and his skin a splotchy pink. Hair stuck straight into the air. The man ran his hand through the thinning mess adding to the disorder. Matt gave a disgusted sigh. A drunk who slept it off in a cell. He’d seen enough of those faces in his own jail.

  When they reached the door, Matt pushed it open and ushered Harmony in before him.

  A slender man with a badge pinned to his vest sat behind a desk covered with wanted posters.

  Matt extended a hand. “My name’s Matt Cullen, and this is my wife, Harmony. I’m the sheriff in Ford, Oregon,” he commenced.

  “Whit Malone,” the man replied while rising from the desk. He shook Matt’s hand and tipped a nod in Harmony’s direction. “How can I help you?” He motioned at a pair of chairs arranged before his desk.

  Matt helped his wife before seating himself. “We arrived in Franklin late last night. We survived the train wreck up in the Rockies and the robbery that followed.”

  “You what?” Whit Malone sat straight up in his chair and looked from Matt to Harmony and back at Matt. “The one hit by the avalanche? There weren’t any survivors, just bodies that haven’t been found,” he declared.

  “Harmony and I survived,” Matt said, “and we walked out.”

  “Holy hell,” the other man breathed the words on an exhale of disbelief.

  “It wasn’t easy,” Matt agreed with the sentiment. “We want to tell you what we know about the men that robbed the train.” Matt waited for a go-ahead nod. “The two men caused the avalanche with dynamite. They killed two people in cold blood, a woman named Nan and one of the guards. Nan’s husband, the engineer, the stoker, and the second guard died in the accident so they killed them too, I’d say.”

  “Why didn’t they kill you?” he asked.

  “We played dead, and they bought it,” Matt recalled that perilous moment with a shudder. “We heard them talking, and they called each other by name. The tall one was named Jim. A shorter man with a big, scruffy beard that covered most of his chest answered to Hector. I wish we knew more, but I hope the names will help bring those bastards to justice.” He shot Harmony an apologetic glance. He’d spank her if she swore, but there was simply no other word that fit those two varmints.

  Whit Malone stared, wide-eyed, at Matt. “Mr. Cullen, that is the only clue we’ve had so far, and it’s a big one.” He waved a hand over the scattered posters. “Would you take a gander at these and see if you recognize them?”

  “Of course, but before we do, there is another matter.” Matt took Harmony’s hand in his own. “A mountain man name of Gustav Sorenson got hold of Harmony.” He wouldn’t go into detail over his wife’s disobedience with the sheriff who was, after all, a stranger. She’d paid the price already over his knee. He continued, “I followed their tracks to a cabin. He had my wife tied up. She was bruised and had a black eye coming on. The man didn’t want to let her go. Long story short, he threw a knife, and I got off a shot. I’m sorry to say, the man’s dead, but I didn’t have any choice but to defend myself and my wife.” He shook his head slowly like a big dog just out of the water. “It would ease my mind if someone could go up there after the thaw and bury him proper. If we hadn’t been in his cabin when the snowstorm hit, I doubt we’d have survived.” Matt pulled the cigar box from the deep pocket of his coat. “We found this in his storeroom. That’s how we know his name.”

  Whit took the box and laid it on the desk. “Gus Sorenson arrived here some years back. He went into the mountains and only came down once or twice a year, but every time he was stranger and surlier than the last. Man isn’t meant for such isolation. I don’t doubt he’d forgotten how to be civilized,” he said. “I will see he’s buried.”

  “Thank you,” The burden of the mountain man’s death lifted from his shoulders. “That’s a comfort.”

  The sheriff gathered the posters into a pile and handed them to Matt. “If you could look at these before you go, we might get lucky. When we do arrest these murdering thieves, you’ll both need to testify. You’re the only eyewitnesses.”

  Matt nodded and took the pile of paper from Whit’s hand.

  “Sheriff Malone,” a plaintive voice called from the cell at the back of the jail. “Can I go home now? I’m sober as a judge.”

  “All right, Silas, but you got to quit drinking up all your pay. How’s your wife going to feed those children?” he asked.

  “I know. I know. Sally’s gonna take it out of my hide. I don’t know what comes over me. I stopped for one little drink, but kept on going. I don’t remember being arrested,” he said, “but here I am.” He raised his hands to encompass the cold cell with the narrow cot.

  “Sorry, Sheriff,” the fella murmured. “I won’t do it again.”

  “Save the apologies for Sally,” Whit snapped. “I’ll let you out once I’ve finished my business with these folks.”

  Matt and Harmony stared at the posters on the desk. “That’s one.” Harmony nodded agreement. “Jim Hanson. Wanted in Mississippi for murder,” he read. He handed the poster to Sheriff Malone and returned to his perusal of pictures of wanted men. “Here’s the other,” he stopped at a second page. “Hector Barnes. Wanted for armed robbery and assault.”

  “I’ll telegraph this information to other sheriffs. Now we have their names, there’s a mighty good chance to capture them. Having eyewitnesses makes conviction a sure thing. Without you, we don’t have much of a case.”

  “Like I said, I’m sheriff in Ford, Oregon. You can reach me there.” Matt helped Harmony to her feet. “I hope they get caught.” He motioned at the poster in the other man’s hand. “Looks like they’ve been up to no good for quite a spell.”

  Mitch and Melody waited for them in front of the hotel. Mitch pointed at a building across the street. A sign painted in bold red declared it was the Bottoms Up Saloon.

  “Strange thing just happened, Matt,” he began. “Two fellas were belly up to the bar when Melody and I walked by. When they saw her, the blood drained right down to their boots. Looked like they’d seen a ghost.”

  “Was one a short guy with a bushy beard?” Matt asked.

  “He was,” Mitch said. “They rode out of town like the devil was on their tail.”

  “Damn,” Matt spat the word. “I’m going back to the sheriff’s office. Stay with the women, Mitch.” He took several steps before turning around. “We’re leaving on tomorrow’s train. I’ve had enough o
f Colorado, mountains, and murder.”

  He retraced his steps and gave his bride a kiss that promised more. “We’re going home, darlin’,” he whispered.

  “Home.”

  Chapter 13

  The trip from Colorado to Oregon had been without incident, and Harmony was grateful. She and Melody had spent the days sitting side by side, holding hands, and talking. Truth be told, most of their talking was done silently. Harmony would have a thought or an idea, and when she looked at her sister, she’d be nodding agreement or she’d answer the unspoken question.

  The only ripple in the pond of their happiness was their husbands. Matt and Mitch were good men, understanding and kind. But the two hadn’t been happy when their women insisted on sharing a seat on the train. It left the men either sharing one themselves or sitting alone. A compromise was reached when the women took the inside seats and the men sat by the window. Matt and Mitch grumbled that it left the women too exposed, but Harmony and Melody held hands across the aisle and were content. While none of the parties were entirely happy, peace was achieved.

  When they spent the night in a hotel in Portland before boarding the stage for the final leg of their journey, Harmony tried to convince Matt to share a room with Mitch like he’d done before their wedding. He’d refused, absolutely and loudly. That had been a matter of tradition, and he’d been happy to adhere to it. Now that they were married the tradition was she slept in his bed. He would not spend the night with Mitch. He would not.

  Harmony had spent a lifetime without Melody, and it was a hole in her heart—a bottomless abyss. Her need to be with her sister was primal, necessary, like air to breathe or water to drink. Harmony hoped the void would fill as they made new memories together. But for now, her need for Melody’s presence was a craving, a physical pain, an addiction.

  They’d arrived in Ford yesterday evening. It was the dusty little town Matt had described. She didn’t care one bit as long as Melody was near, and Matt loved her. The two couples had eaten supper in the café, and Melody and Mitch spent the night in the spare bedroom in Matt’s house.

  But this morning, Mitch had rented a wagon at the Livery. He and Matt secured their bags in the back, and he was ready to leave. To take Melody away. Away where Harmony could not hold her hand or soak in her presence. They had both cried most of the morning. Their husband’s mouths had turned into wretched frowns, and their eyes were pools of sadness, but their jaws were blocks of granite – resolute and unrelenting.

  Harmony had gripped Melody’s hand like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man until Matt lifted her away with one strong arm wrapped around her stomach. Her feet churned empty air.

  “They need to be on their way, darlin’,” Matt whispered in her small, pink ear. “Mitch can’t move the wagon until you are away from the wheels. They’re only going a couple of miles to Journey’s End. I’ll take you there on Wednesday. That’s in two days.” He’d kissed her tear stained cheek. “Just two days.”

  Harmony wailed and tears flowed as the wagon pulled away. She held her hands out to the diminishing figure of her sister. Melody, on her knees, was turned backward on the wagon’s seat. Her cries equaled Harmony’s in their distress.

  Matt carried her inside and settled with her on his lap in the large rocker next to the fireplace. She snuggled into his arms, exhausted. He’d rocked and rocked and rocked, rubbing her back, kissing her honey-colored curls, whispering sweet words until she’d fallen into deep sleep.

  Harmony woke the next morning with her husband’s hardness lying heavy against her back.

  “Is that for me?” she giggled and squirmed closer.

  “Why, yes, yes, it is.” Matt lifted her leg and rested it on top of his own. He scooted lower until he could spear her with his manhood. Taking firm hold of her hips he pulled her down as he pushed up. She leaned forward and lifted her body on an elbow to allow deeper penetration. They strained and grappled to get as close, close, close as they possibly could. Matt groaned as his body went rigid with release.

  Harmony fell forward onto her stomach. “Whew!” A whoosh of air escaped her lips. “I do love waking up with you.” She tapped blindly with her hand until she made contact with her husband’s flesh.

  “I need to go into work, Harmony,” Matt rose from the bed and turned to replace the covers over his wife. “I’ll come home for dinner, and then I’ll take you to the dressmaker. You need more clothes than the few Melody loaned you. Clothes suited for here. No heavy corset. I won’t have you wearing something that won’t let you breathe. Martha, she owns the shop, must know of better undergarments. And one more thing, no bloomers.” He gave her a look of such searching depth she felt pinned to the bed.

  “I do need a pair or two, Matt,” she said and hurried on before he could lodge the protest she saw building behind his eyes. “I thought I’d try the Mercantile. They have some ready-made dresses that might fit. Melody said to buy some fabric, too. She plans to teach me to sew.” Harmony concluded her speech with a nod.

  “When did she tell you that?” Matt’s voice held guarded suspicion.

  “Last night just before I fell asleep. She sent me a few ideas. We look good in dark or bright colors Melody told me. Grandmama never let me choose my own clothes, so I needed some help,” Harmony said.

  Matt’s face was a study in confusion. “Harmony,” his voice was a caution, “Melody wasn’t aware of our activities this morning, was she? I don’t want three people in our bed, darlin’.” He pulled on a second boot and stamped his foot to settle it in place. He stared at her with intense scrutiny.

  “No, of course not,” Harmony reassured him. “When I’m with her, we sense each other’s thoughts. But all my life in the moment before sleep, I was aware of a voice. We’d exchange, oh, images and feelings, I guess. I believed everyone had such a companion until Grandmama told me not to mention it again. It would make people think me odd. That was the worst thing of all in her mind – to be thought different. Anyway, I can block Melody from my thoughts, and she can do the same. We both need our private spaces.”

  Matt buckled his gun belt around slim hips. “That’s mighty good news. Our bed’s just right for us two.” He gave her bottom a little slap. “I’ll be back at dinner time. We need to purchase supplies at the Mercantile anyway, so we’ll start your clothes shopping there.”

  The following morning, Harmony was out of bed and wearing a new dress of deep pink with white flowers scattered across the fabric before the sun threw its first rays over the horizon.

  She poked her husband’s arm with an insistent finger. “Wake up, Matt,” she hissed.

  His eyes drifted open and tried to focus. “What time is it?”

  “A little before six,” Harmony replied. “We need to get going.” She pulled on his covers.

  “Stop that.” He swatted her hand away. “Where are we off to so early?”

  “To see Melody. You said we’d go to Melody today,” she huffed.

  “It’s too early. They won’t expect us.” He ran a hand over his sleepy face.

  “Yes, they will. She said to come for breakfast.” She knew her voice was strident and demanding, but she wanted to be on her way. Matt had promised they would go.

  Her husband threw his long legs over the side of the bed. His eyes made a slow journey up her body and back down. “You look mighty pretty in that dress,” he said. “Sure you don’t want to come back to bed?” He gave his erect member a hopeful glance.

  “No, Matt, I want to get to Journey’s End.” Her voice was an explosion held in check.

  “All right, darlin’.” He pulled his pants on and stood to fasten them. “Should I rent a buggy or do you want to ride double? I aim to teach you to ride, but riding double is a good way to get comfortable on a horse.”

  “What’s faster?” she asked.

  “Riding double.”

  “That’s what we’ll do, then. Go get your horse,” she snapped.

  “Now, Harmony, you’re a might bossy
for my tastes this morning. I think a little spanking would calm you down some.” He took hold of her hand and tugged her toward the table.

  “No, please,” she begged. Tears stood in her eyes and quivered there. “You said we’d go, and I’ve waited for hours for you to wake up.” Her bottom lip trembled, and she took it between her white teeth.

  Matt regarded her with serious, searching eyes. “All right. I’ll go get the horse.”

  Matt mounted his horse before pulling Harmony to sit in his lap. “Lean back, darlin’. I’ll keep you safe,” he whispered. His moist, hot breath on the back of her neck sent delicious tingles racing down her spine. For a moment, she regretted passing on his offer to rejoin him in bed that morning, but thoughts of Melody waiting breakfast banished them.

  She snuggled into the heat of his body and rested the back of her head on his broad chest.

  “Journey’s End is about two miles. We’ll let Chester walk since it’s your first time on a horse. You’re not scared, are you?” Matt enquired.

  “No, I’m not frightened when I’m with you.” She glanced at his concerned face over her shoulder. “Anyway, we’ve been in more danger than riding double on a horse.”

  “You have the right of it, darlin’, but I don’t aim to see you in that kind of fix again.” He nodded agreement with his sentiment.

  “Oh, Matt,” Harmony’s words rushed forth on a sigh, “it’s beautiful here.”

  Dew glistened on the petals of spring flowers, and the fresh, clean scent of green grass spiced the air. Trees waved their branches as if waking from deep sleep. Grandmama’s garden had been groomed, controlled, perfected. Her garden reflected her life, and the life she’d intended for Harmony. This riot of color, shape, and smell had her stomach bubbling with pure pleasure. She’d had no idea nature and life could be so wild and grand.

  “I’m so happy, Matt,” she exclaimed. “I have you and Melody and all this.” She swept her hands out like an actor accepting applause.

  She felt the rumble of his laughter at her back. “I’m mighty glad, darlin’, mighty glad.” He leaned down and placed a kiss on her cheek.