Melody Read online

  Bitterness stained Melody’s thoughts. “The rest of the time she was accusing me of trying to kill her. No wonder people are talking against me. You’d think they’d know she was out of her mind.”

  Miss Hattie shook her head and tut tutted. “People believe what they want to—or what helps them the most.”

  The elderly woman hugged Melody. “You take care of yourself. You’re a mighty fine young lady. I hope the man you’re marrying will appreciate that fact.” Miss Hattie leaned on her cane and left the small cemetery. No doubt the kindly woman had put flowers on her family’s graves.

  Melody was packed aside from the things she’d laundered earlier in the day. Her trunks included the few things she’d been able to bury before the Yankees got there. Once the soldiers arrived, everything had been stolen or burned. Still, she had a few family treasures to take with her. At least she wouldn’t be going to her groom empty-handed.

  With a last look at the headstones and the cemetery surrounding them, she turned and walked home. The detached kitchen in which she’d lived for the past three years had blistered paint in places and charred wood on the side nearest the house. Fortunately for her and her grandmother, the small building hadn’t caught on fire. Since then Melody had been busy saving their lives and feeding them.

  As she neared her ramshackle home, riding toward her was one of the carpetbaggers who’d come south and worked for the county. She’d dealt with this odious man before when he came to collect taxes.

  “Well, well, Miss Fraser.” From atop his horse, he waved a paper under her nose. “I have your eviction notice here. You have to vacate the property by the end of November. You’re not to take anything with you except personal belongings.”

  Her insides quivered but she refused to show her fear. She gestured toward the charred ruins. “You mean I can’t take the fine paintings and lovely furniture from the house?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I know you Rebs buried your treasures. You dig them up and leave them with the house, you hear?”

  “What treasures?” she lied. “Between the Union and Confederate soldiers, there were none left. If not for the generosity of friends whose homes were spared, I would have had only the clothes I wore when the house burned and not even a blanket or pillow for my grandmother.”

  She snatched the paper from his hand. “You’ve delivered the notice, now leave. This land is still mine until December the first.”

  From atop his horse he pointed at her. “Heard the sheriff is interested in talking to you about complaints he’s received charging you with murder. You’d do well to be nice to those of us in power ’cause you need all the friends you can gather.” He turned his horse and galloped toward town.

  She grasped the doorframe for support. Her legs threatened to collapse. What if the sheriff came before she could leave? What would she do if someone wanted to inspect her trunks tomorrow at the station? She’d concealed small things in the clothes’ folds but what about the tea service? Her family’s china?

  When news came that the war approached Charlotte, she’d gathered what she could and hastily buried things. Not all in the same spot, of course. She dug under shrubs, stuffed things into hollow trees, tucked them anywhere she could to conceal what she valued. She could only save a small portion, but she wasn’t willing to leave those things behind for some carpetbagger.

  Most things were too heavy for her, but she’d managed to store some of her family’s cherished heirlooms. Burning the house which was filled with fine furnishings and furniture was a criminal waste. She preferred the looters to those who destroyed everything in their wake.

  Calming herself, she gathered her freshly dried laundry from the clothesline and took it inside. Fortunately, the kitchen was built as two rooms. The largest one held the stove, table, and storage cabinets.

  The second was intended as a larder with preparation space. Occasionally their handyman had slept there before the frightened man had disappeared. His former bed was where she had slept and she had given Nana a better bed rescued from one of the farm worker’s cottages.

  Salvaging everything that hadn’t been stolen or too badly broken to be of use, she managed to make the kitchen into a livable space. Not a pleasant one, that was for certain. Nana had complained daily.

  Hugging her arms, she stared at her makeshift home. Oh, how eager she was to escape this place and start fresh.

  Chapter Three

  Nick had his intended’s two trunks hauled from the stage station to his home and lugged to the bedroom. He wondered what each contained. One was too heavy for only clothing. He looked forward to his bride arriving on Friday. Reverend Carroll was prepared to marry them as soon as Melody got here.

  In the meantime, he sat at his desk in the clinic and worked on his records. His friend Glenn Lawrence dropped by to chat.

  Glenn slouched a hip onto the edge of Nick’s desk. “Did I interrupt your record keeping?”

  Nick laid down his pen. “I doubt it will disappear if I take a few minutes to relax.”

  “You mentioned Dr. Collins had been a meticulous record keeper.”

  “For which I am grateful. Although, I spent several hours rearranging the supplies to my satisfaction. I was pleased to learn the clinic was well-stocked.”

  Abner Hamilton entered the office cradling his left arm. “Doc, I did something bad to myself. Can’t use my arm much.”

  Glenn waved and headed for the door. “See you later.”

  Nick stood and gestured Abner to a chair. “Take off your shirt and let me have a look.”

  Abner unbuttoned his shirt with one hand. “You getting settled here in Angel Creek?”

  “As a matter of fact I am. Nice town and I enjoy living here.”

  “Sure thought Dr. Collins liked it.” Abner shook his head. “After he and his brother found one another, he and Mrs. Collins and the brother pulled up stakes soon enough. I heard the brother has a ranch northwest of here. Too bad it’s so far away.”

  Drat, but he was tired of hearing about how great his predecessor was. “But, it’s nice that he and his brother were reunited. I understand they’d been separated very young.” He helped Abner remove his shirt, wishing his nurse or Hank were here.

  “Did a good job making something of himself after such a sad start in life. He’s a good doctor, too. We sure were disappointed when he told us he was leaving.”

  Nick smiled when he wanted to grit his teeth. “Let me examine your arm.” He moved the arm around.

  Abner groaned. “That sure hurts.”

  “I think you’d better step over and lay on the examination table.” Nick helped Abner onto the table. “How did you manage to dislocate your shoulder?”

  “I was putting out hay for the cows and my prize bull bumped into me. He was loving on me like a cat does, butting his head for me to scratch like I did when he was a calf. Bull thinks he’s still a baby but he’s the biggest bull I’ve ever seen. Thing is, he knocked me for a loop right into the wagon.”

  “Abner, there’s no point lying to you. This is going to hurt like the devil. You want something to bite down on so your teeth don’t cut your tongue?” He should have said it would sure hurt since that appeared to be the man’s favorite word.

  “No, you just go ahead and do what you have to. I’ll sure be still as I can.” Abner closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. His good hand gripped the edge of the exam table so hard his knuckles were white.

  “Here goes.” Nick rotated the arm until he heard the click of it resettling into the socket where it belonged.

  Abner gave a loud moan and sweat broke out on his forehead. When he was recovered enough, Nick helped the man sit.

  “You did well. I’ve seen men pass out from that procedure. You come here by yourself?” Nick helped him don his shirt and buttoned it for him.

  Abner nodded. “Sure did. Reckon I’ll be fine now though.”

  Nick fashioned a sling for the injured arm. “You wear this for a day or two. That arm
is going to be sore. Don’t overuse it for the next few days.”

  Abner gave him an incredulous stare. “I have to take care of my animals and my ranch.”

  “Of course, but you’ll have to do so cautiously. You won’t help yourself if you damage your arm and shoulder again. Is there anyone to help you?”

  The other man considered pensively. “Wife helps a bit now and then but she’s got the cows to milk and chickens and pigs to feed plus the house to look after and cooking to do.”

  “She sounds like an industrious woman. Perhaps she can let the house gather dust for a couple of days. Or, maybe a neighbor can help you temporarily.”

  “I’ll think on it going home. Can’t pay you today but I sure will when I sell some of my stock this later this month. You just tell me how much so I know.”

  Nick gave him an amount. “When you sell your cattle will be fine.”

  “Check Dr. Collins’ records. You’ll see for sure I always pay my debts.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Dadburn, now Abner had him using sure.

  “That Dr. Collins was a treasure and we sure hated to lose him. I can tell now you’re good, too. I’ll be seeing you but I sure hope it’s not for something like this.”

  When Abner had gone, Nick added the charge to the records in the patient files. There was a card for each patient, the ailment, treatment, and charge. When they paid, a line was drawn through the amount. Not a complicated system although it appeared to function sufficiently.

  He laid his hands on his desk. Nick felt no guilt in saying he was a darned good doctor. Patients appeared to like him but still they mentioned Collins far too often.

  He hoped a lot of new people moved into Angel Creek who hadn’t known his predecessor. He wanted to be judged on his own merit. Didn’t seem a lot to ask.

  Melody stared out the stage window. Crisp air blew through the opening and she pulled her serge cape around her. The sky was an incredible blue with only a few wisps of cottony clouds. Her view was nice even though it was very foreign. In early fall, a lot of green still greeted her because of the abundant pines.

  The large oak and magnolia trees she loved were nowhere in sight. No swaying moss hung from pine trees. Occasionally she spotted a grove of bare-limbed trees she couldn’t name. Birds of many types dipped and glided in view.

  Across from her, a man who’d been asleep nodded toward the window. “Those large birds are bald eagles. You’ll see a lot of them in Montana.”

  Melody watched the eagles. “They’re majestic. I wish I’d had a chance to find a book on Montana. I don’t recognize the birds or trees or plants.”

  “Pretty flowers in spring. Large number of birds and animals. We have lots of bears. Keep a look out in brush under the trees and you may see them.”

  “Better from the stagecoach than up close.”

  He chuckled. “You moving here or passing through?”

  “Moving here. I’m Melody Fraser, a mail-order bride for a man in Angel Creek.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Nice town. My name’s Horace Gregory. I’m a drummer and call on the Weston Mercantile there. Then, I’ll head toward Boise, one town at a time.”

  Perplexed, her brow wrinkled. “A drummer? You travel around and play the drum? I didn’t see one being loaded onto the stage.”

  He laughed and slapped his knee. “Miss Fraser, a drummer is a traveling salesman.” He continued laughing.

  She joined him. “I’d never heard the term, Mr. Gregory. Made me sound silly, didn’t it?”

  He wiped his eyes with his handkerchief. “Not at all. I forget not everyone is familiar with a salesman’s language.”

  “So, you’ve been to Angel Creek before?”

  “Six times a year and it’s one of my favorite stops. If winters weren’t so cold I’d move there next year when I retire. Instead, the wife and I plan to head for California.” The man linked his fingers over his belly and wriggled against the seat in preparation for another nap.

  Melody returned to her study of the countryside. She’d seen such a wide variety of scenery since she left Charleston. Learning about geography in school hadn’t prepared her for the immensity of the land she’d been traveling.

  She’d had so many firsts on this trip. Riding a train had been exciting. Sailing up the river had been calming and interesting. The stagecoach, however interesting the landscape, was an experience she didn’t want to repeat.

  Butterflies took flight in her stomach. The most important first was her impending wedding to a man she’d never met. She said a prayer that her marriage would be a happy one.

  Chapter Four

  Melody straightened her hat and pulled her cape around her as the stagecoach slowed. She tried to get a sense of the town. Wooden walkways ran in front of the few stores. The buildings were frame or built of logs.

  The driver opened the door and held out his hand to help her disembark.

  “Thank you, sir.” She stepped down and smoothed the trip-worn skirt of her gray poplin travel suit. There was no way to brush off the grime from her travels.

  She was grateful to her friends who had shared their clothes when her home burned. Even though this suit was nowhere as nice or well fitting as hers had been, she was lucky to have the costume. There she went again. No use thinking of the past—she was getting a fresh start.

  Now that the stage had stopped, the crisp air was free of dust. A light breeze fanned her face. She hoped her groom was on hand to meet her.

  Her stomach heaved and she feared she’d throw up from nerves. The church spire reminded her she’d soon be getting married—unless he’d changed his mind. After sending her all that money, she didn’t believe that would happen.

  A strong baritone asked, “Miss Fraser?”

  She turned and locked gazes with a smiling, handsome man. “Yes, are you Dr. Walker?” His appearance shouldn’t matter, but she was glad he was nice looking.

  “That’s correct, I’m Nick Walker. The minister is waiting for us. I hope you’ll agree to wed right away.” He picked up her valise with one hand and offered his arm for her to hold.

  “Certainly, although I must look a fright. I’m wearing at least a pound of dust that blew in the stagecoach windows. I tried lowering the shade but that blocked the view yet didn’t keep out the dirt. I gave in and left them raised during the day.”

  “You look lovely. Almost everyone in Angel Creek arrived by stage and understands how tiresome our travel conditions are. I hope we’ll have a railroad in the not-too-distant future.”

  Grateful for his comment, she scanned the town. Buildings were spread over what appeared to be two streets running north and south and one running east and west. Using the term street was overly gracious to the rutted dirt strips. The stage station was not far from the church.

  Not many of the stores joined one another, but set alone. They had boardwalks in front, but nothing connected to the next building. Shopping in bad weather must be a chore.

  He nodded ahead. “We’re headed toward the church. The large building on our left facing east is the Mercantile. My—now our—home is diagonally across town from the church. As you can guess, that’s not a long way.”

  His glance was critical. “If this is your new coat, it won’t be warm enough. We’ve already had snow this fall.”

  “I searched but Charleston had nothing suitable for weather as cold as you have here. I hoped to be able to purchase something appropriate in Angel Creek. I was able to find a sturdy pair of warm boots and warm stockings.” Her face heated when she mentioned stockings. He didn’t need to know that the coat he deemed unsuitable had been from a charity donation.

  “Good. Later you can stop at the Mercantile to purchase whatever you need. Tomorrow afternoon would be a good time. They carry an amazingly wide variety of goods.” He helped her up the church steps.

  He opened the door and they entered the sanctuary, depositing the valise on a back pew.

  A smiling man near her age rose from a fr
ont pew and stretched out his hand. “Welcome to Angel Creek. I hope you’ll love our town as much as I do.”

  Her groom put his hand at her back waist. “Melody Fraser, this is Reverend Flint Carroll.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Reverend Carroll.” She laid her cloak on the back pew where Nick had set her valise.

  Two women and a child at the front of the church stood and turned around then rushed to greet her.

  “Sarah! Charity! And Becca, too. Oh, how wonderful to see you.” She hugged each of them and their embraces were joyful.

  Sarah stepped away and held her daughter Becca’s hand. “You need witnesses and we wanted to see your wedding. Julia and Caroline said they’ll see you soon. Anna doesn’t get into town as often as we’d like but she’s happy.”

  The minister stood at a lectern. “Shall we begin?”

  Melody’s heart pounded so she barely registered the words he spoke but managed to say “I do” at the appropriate pause.

  Beside her, Nicholas Walker slipped a ring on her finger then spoke his “I do.”

  Reverend Carroll smiled. “You may kiss the bride.”

  Nick cupped her face and brushed his lips gently across hers. He linked her arm with his. “Shall we go, Mrs. Walker?”

  “Yes, Dr. Walker.” She cast a glance over her shoulder at her friends as her husband helped her don her cape.

  Charity called, “Wishing you happiness. We’ll see you later.”

  Becca waved. “Bye, bye Miss Melody.”

  Nick grabbed the valise and they strode toward a building with a sign that announced Eatery. “You shouldn’t have to cook on your wedding day. The Olivers serve good food.”

  Once they were inside he guided her to a table. He nodded or spoke to others as they passed but didn’t stop. After helping her remove her cloak, he seated her.

  She smiled, the tight coil in her stomach relaxing slightly. He was polite and considerate so far. Perhaps he’d be an ideal husband—except for not loving her.

  “I wouldn’t mind cooking but this is much nicer. Thank you.”