Melody (Journey's End Book 2) Page 4

  “No, no problem.” The lawyer scanned the marriage license one more time before returning it to Mitch.

  “Thank you,” Mitch said. “Come, Melody, let’s find our dinner.”

  Once outside, Melody skewered Mitch with furious eyes. “Quit telling me what to do.”

  “We want our marriage to be believed, sweetheart. That is what husbands do. They take control. They protect. I was mostly proud of you in there. You almost held your tongue,” he said. He snapped his fingers and Chase came to his side. When they descended the walk, Mitch pulled his wife into the alley between buildings and put a finger to his lips. The door to the law office opened, and the lawyer scurried down the street. Mitch watched until he mounted the stairs to a large white house surrounded by a freshly painted picket fence.

  “Who lives there?” he enquired.

  “The mayor,” Melody responded.

  “He was the anonymous buyer. He’s just now finding out the deals gone south. Interesting. That might be our first clue.” He held his elbow out and Melody slipped her hand into it. “Let’s go eat. I’m hungry as a bear.”

  They returned to the lawyer’s office after a tasty meal of ham, potatoes, green beans and pie. Mitch rubbed his stomach and groaned with satisfaction.

  “I hope he’s got those papers. I’m too full to fight,” he exclaimed. New papers lay on the desk when they entered. Mitch examined them before handing them to Melody. “They seem to be in order. Go ahead and sign.” The lawyer handed her a pen, and she scribbled her name.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow about dinner time. Have the bank draft ready.” Mitch guided Melody from the office.

  They returned to the Livery and waited while the horses were hitched to the wagon and Chase ate the leftover food from their lunch.

  “Which way?” Mitch asked as they rolled from the establishment.

  “East,” Melody replied.

  Mitch guided the horses down a well-worn road. “When we get to the ranch, I’ll talk to the foreman and settle the wages.”

  “You won’t,” Melody exploded. “It’s my ranch.”

  “In the eyes of the world, sweetheart, it’s my ranch,” Mitch began but Melody was already shooting hard words his way.

  “You dirty devil. Did you swindle me out of my ranch like that lawyer said?” Melody added a hefty punch to his arm.

  “Stop right there and get that temper under control.” He pulled the wagon to a stop. “I won’t be yelled at or hit or be the brunt for your anger.”

  “You hit me,” she shouted.

  “I would never hit you. I spanked you. Your temper is going to land you, or us, in trouble. I aim to give you a reason to keep it tamped down.”

  He pulled her across his legs and threw her skirt over her back. He held her still with his right hand while his left slid her bloomers to her ankles.

  “Stop, Mitch. What if someone rides by?” Melody screamed.

  “I reckon they’ll see a bottom getting warmed. That’s another thing husband’s do, Melody. They keep their wives safe in any way necessary. Your temper needs taming.”

  His wife was a wildcat. She squirmed and wiggled and bucked, but he’d do his job. He spanked her lily-white bottom into shades of pink, red and scarlet before pulling up her bloomers, lifting her to his lap and soothing her with any old sweet word that came his way. She clung to his shirt and sniffed her distress, but she didn’t try to get away from him. He smiled into her hair and dropped a kiss on the top of her golden head.

  “Now, to finish our conversation. I will talk to the foreman and pay wages. Men work better when paid. Men also work better for other men. You would have trouble running the ranch on your own, sweetheart. Men don’t like to take orders from a woman. It’s just the truth.”

  “While I set the ranch hands to rights, I want you to fill a trunk or two with clothes and whatever you need to live at Journey’s End,” he instructed. “After supper, we’ll search your brother’s study.”

  Melody nodded her head, but Mitch felt displeasure vibrate through her body like a quivering guitar string.

  “We’d best be on our way.” Mitch set his wife next to him on the wagon’s seat. She flinched and lifted her bottom away from the hard wood. Two spankings in two days would make a body reluctant to sit, Mitch mused.

  He didn’t spank her to be bossy or mean. He paddled her for her safety. Her brother was murdered, and he didn’t have the complete story yet. Until they knew who was behind the killing and why, she had to follow his orders without argument. Her life might depend on it.

  And that temper needed curbed and her language cleaned up. Her pa hadn’t done her any favors letting her fuss and fume and carry on. He aimed to put an end to it.

  He hoped she understood which way the wind blew. It would save her bottom a tanning or two if she did. Wind can blow hot and hard.

  It surely can.

  Chapter 5

  Melody jumped from the wagon before Mitch could offer his hand and stormed up the stairs stamping and steaming. Chase leaped to the dirt and trotted to his master’s side.

  “Hello, Miss Melody.” A small woman with a black braid wound around the crown of her head and a full skirt swirling about her ankles waited at the open door.

  Melody huffed past her in a cloud of anger. “Hello, Belinda,” she replied while flinging a careless hand over her shoulder. “This is my husband, Mr. McBride, please prepare a room for him.” The heels of her boots clicked with impatient purpose up the stairs to the second floor.

  Belinda shook her head and sighed. “The little miss is unhappy.”

  Mitch watched his wife’s bottom switch to the right and the left as she climbed. “Is she often so rude?” he asked.

  Melody stopped at the top of the stairs. How dare he question her staff about her behavior? This was her house and her ranch. Damn it.

  Belinda regarded her mistress with unhappy eyes. “She is as she is,” she replied before dropping a small curtsy. “Are you truly her husband?”

  “Yup, name’s Mitch McBride. And you are?” he asked.

  “Belinda Spencer. I am housekeeper and cook. My husband, Thomas, is the foreman.” Her face glowed at this revelation. “We are all sad about Mister Clay. It is a good thing for Miss Melody to have a husband to run the ranch.” She cast another baleful glance at Melody standing statue-still at the top of the stairs. “I will prepare a room.” The little woman scurried away.

  “I’m heading to the barn to find Thomas. He’ll know about wages owed and any problems that need to be seen to. Pack your trunks while I’m out, and I’ll see you at supper.” Mitch waited for a response, but her gaze blew a cold breeze. “What’s got your dander up?” Mitch demanded.

  “I don’t like to be told what to do. I do what I want on my ranch,” she fumed.

  “Do you want to pay the men, and I’ll pack your trunks?” he chuckled. “Since I don’t know what all a lady needs, you might not like the result.”

  She folded her arms under her bosom and glared.

  “So, you’ve always stomped around, had your way and been rude to the help on this ranch. Nobody ever took the time to make you behave. I’m sorry for it, sweetheart, I truly am. I’ll have to think on this. I knew you had a temper, but I didn’t figure on a spoiled brat. Though I guess that tantrum in the bank should have tipped me off.” Long strides ate the distance to the front door. He raised his eyes to the defiant woman at the top of the stairs. “Pack your trunks,” he growled. “Come on, Chase, we got work to do.”

  Melody entered her room. The room her pa had decorated just to suit her. Course, she’d plagued him something fierce before he ordered the four-poster bed with a big white canopy. She threw herself into the little chintz chair that matched the lavender curtains.

  She laid her head against the back of the chair and pondered. Was she a spoiled brat? She flinched. When Mitch said that, it hurt. She liked having her way but didn’t everyone? He’d said nobody took the time to make you behave. Well
, there was truth in that. Pa always had time for Clay, his son, the one who would continue to grow his legacy. Those two were out riding together sunrise to sunset most days. If she whined long enough, he let her tag along. If she was quiet and sweet, he ignored her. Stamping feet, pouting lips, and tantrums gained attention.

  Melody pulled a trunk from the back of her closet and began to pack. She folded dresses, skirts, blouses, night clothes, under things and topped it with her hairbrush, toothbrush and tooth powder, scented soap and a small vial of perfume her pa gave her on her last birthday.

  She lay down on her bed. A tear slid from her eye and landed in her ear. She shook her head at the annoyance. Mitch might be the kind of man who paid attention. The tenderness in her backside seemed to say so. Melody rose, splashed cool water on her face and headed downstairs. She didn’t want to be a brat – what an ugly word.

  Mitch sat in an overstuffed chair with a small glass of whiskey in his hand. One leg was bent and rested on the knee of the other. He was a handsome man with that red hair and long, hard body. It kindled fire. Melody gave herself a little shake. “Name only,” she whispered.

  She lowered herself to a small settee. “How did it go with the men?” she asked.

  “Fine. Thomas has the ranch well in hand. The men are paid,” Mitch informed her.

  “Thank you for handling that. I appreciate it,” Melody said.

  “You’re welcome,” he answered.

  He stared at her for a long, uncomfortable minute. She crossed her legs and smoothed her skirt.

  “You packed?” he enquired.

  “I am,” she assured him.

  “Melody, I’m sorry I called you a brat. It wasn’t very nice of me.” He took a long swallow of amber liquid.

  “The thing is you might be right. Pa only gave me attention when I whined or fussed or stamped my feet. I guess it became a habit.” She shrugged and cast dispirited eyes at the floor.

  “I know there’s a sweet woman inside, Melody. I aim to help you find her,” Mitch promised.

  After supper, they headed for her brother’s study. Chase followed along and curled up in front of the fireplace. Mitch carried a small chair behind the desk and motioned for Melody to sit before sinking into the big leather chair her father had used. She struggled with the impulse to complain.

  “Comfortable?” Mitch asked. “This chair’s so big I didn’t think your feet would reach the floor.”

  “Thank you.” Melody sighed her relief grateful she hadn’t blasted him with anger.

  Mitch opened the long middle drawer. “Not much here.” He ran his hand through the assortment of pencils, ink, rulers and paper. The upper right-hand drawer held ledgers with the most recent on the top. “See how the entries became erratic and strange about four months ago?”

  Melody nodded. “I do. His behavior changed, too. I didn’t know what to do about it. He was gone a great deal, and Thomas took over all daily operations at the ranch. Things here were going well, but I never dreamed Clay was draining our account at the bank. When Pa died, there was plenty of money.”

  The bottom drawer contained a pile of notes written on various types of paper. One on a page torn in half, one on a blank spot in a newspaper, but they all had one thing in common. Each was an IOU made out to Madame T.

  “Do you know who Madame T is?” Mitch shuffled through the papers. “These add up to over seven thousand dollars.” He blew a low whistle. “They are written on scraps of paper and scribbled. I’ve seen men in saloons go into debt just this way. Sometimes they sign away their houses and land to keep gambling. They get in too deep to stop and always believe the next hand will save them. Did your brother gamble?”

  “Not while Pa was alive, but after what’s happened, I can’t say. It’s like he became a different man.” Melody examined one of the notes before dropping it back to the pile of paper.

  Mitch pulled a letter from the next drawer. “Is this the note found on the desk after he was shot?”

  Melody nodded and swallowed past the lump in her throat.

  “I think he’d started writing you a letter and was interrupted before he finished. All it says is Sorry, Melody.” He lifted a second piece of paper from the drawer. “This letter is addressed to Candy. Any idea who that might be?”

  “No. What does it say?” she asked.

  Candy, I know you tried to help. I am in one hell of a fix. I’m sorry, Clay. He replaced the letter in the desk and scratched his head. “Who are Madame T and Candy? We’ll need to figure that out, and why did the mayor want to buy your ranch anonymously and so quick? Doesn’t feel right.”

  They sat in silent contemplation of the pages spread out on the desk. Melody retrieved another IOU. She turned it over in her hand. IOU was written in big block letters at the top of the page. Seven hundred thirty dollars to Madame T followed and then her brother’s signature. She gave a sad sigh. “I think they knew they’d bled him dry. Those sons of bitches.”

  Mitch choked on a sip of brandy and sat up straight and stiff. “Melody,” he said. His voice soaked with displeasure.

  “Well, they are. It’s nothing but the truth.” She defended her word choice while pounding a fist into her open palm.

  “I agree with you, sweetheart, I do. But swearing doesn’t make it any more true.” He regarded her through narrowed eyes. “Are you testing me? Do you need to see that I’m as good as my word? I think you just asked for a spanking,” he declared.

  Melody shook her head with such vigor that pins flew from her hair. Mitch removed the remaining few and spread her hair until it fell half down her back and half over her shoulder and rested on her heaving breasts. “I’ve been longing to see your hair down.” He lifted a strand and brought it to his lips. “You’re a beautiful woman, Melody. I know I agreed to marriage in name only, but it rubs mighty hard. Well, let’s get this over and done.” He placed large hands on her waist and lifted her to his lap.

  “Please, Mitch, I didn’t mean to swear,” she began.

  “I think you did, sweetheart. Your pa never took time to correct your behavior. He devoted himself to your brother, and you only got attention by misbehaving. He ignored you the rest of the time.” He rubbed small circles on her back and added a gentle pat or two. “You wonder if I’m the same. Will I ignore bad behavior? Can you wear me down until you get your way? Sorry, sweetheart, but the answer to both questions is no.”

  He laid her carefully across his muscular thighs and drew her dress over her legs until it rested on her back. Mitch patted her bottom in friendly little taps. “I am a man of my word, and I’m paying attention. I care about what you do and what you say. You don’t have to misbehave to get my notice.”

  He slid her bloomers down her legs until they rested at her ankles. Two dimples winked at him from the top of each little cheek. If things went the way he hoped, he’d get a closer acquaintance with those indents. He pressed his finger into each one and smiled as Melody squeezed her bottom tight.

  She wasn’t fighting him, but he wouldn’t count on that continuing once the spanking got under way. He laid a firm hand on her lower back and pulled her close into his body. He spanked her right cheek and waited for his handprint to appear. Well, he couldn’t leave her bottom unbalanced, so he laid a second spank on her left cheek and waited. At a fast tempo, he laid a brisk round of spanks. He brought her bottom to a rosy pink and paused.

  Opening the top drawer of the desk, he removed a wooden ruler. He laid it across the fullest part of her buttocks and rubbed the length of it across her flesh. Melody twisted her head. Her eyes grew large at the sight of the implement in his large hands.

  “No, Mitch,” she pleaded.

  “This should speak loud and clear, sweetheart. I care and I’m paying attention. Don’t doubt it.”

  The ruler left her skin and hovered in the air before descending with a wicked slap. He reduced the speed of the spanks but increased the force. After each spank, he stopped while a strip of scarlet appeared on he
r skin before delivering the next.

  Melody howled and thrashed. She shouted for help, but Mitch had locked the door behind him when they’d entered. They’d needed privacy to search the desk, and even more now. He didn’t want Belinda or her husband to interfere although he was pretty sure they would welcome his discipline. They had lived with Melody’s haughty anger and bad behavior for years.

  “Settle,” he instructed.

  She bucked at the word, and he nearly lost control of her body. He didn’t want to hurt anything but her bottom, and if she kept up this struggling, she might succeed in throwing herself off his lap. She would very likely hit her head on the desk or injure an arm or leg. That he could not allow.

  He lifted her to a seated position on his lap.

  “Almost done,” he whispered as he set her on the surface of the desk.

  “What?” she stammered.

  Mitch pushed her shoulders gently until she lay flat. He arranged her skirt above her waist. Then, taking both of her ankles in one hand, he raised her legs over her head. Melody tried to cover her exposed bottom with her hands, but he simply lifted her legs higher.

  He’d seen the ladies at Journey’s End put a baby in just this position to change their diaper. At the time, he’d admired the effectiveness of their action. The tiny bottom was ready to be cleaned and diapered while their movement was restricted with the child’s feet secured in the air.

  Lordy, but this new view had him hard as a rod and straining behind the buttons of his jeans. A thatch matching her honey blonde hair covered her mound, but he saw the glistening of her sex and smelled the aroma of arousal. He stood mesmerized. When they were married in all meanings of the word, he’d have her every way a man could take a woman.

  Melody gave her legs a hearty kick and brought Mitch back to the task at hand. He spanked her with his hand to rekindle the fire adding swats to the tops of her thighs.

  “Spanking’s over,” he asserted.

  He didn’t lower her legs but placed a warm hand over her feminine lips and pressed. Melody lifted into his hand, and Mitch groaned his pleasure. With a long finger, he traced the length of her delving deeper with each pass. Melody gripped the edges of the desk with bloodless knuckles. On the next pass, he allowed that finger to breach her opening and slide in, out, and in. He added another finger and pressed on her nub with his thumb. She lifted her buttocks further in the air, and Mitch took that as permission to continue.