The Marriage Charm (Bliss County 2) (23 page)

“I came to that conclusion myself a while back.” She gave a small shiver. “Right now I’m spooked. If you want to see someone leap over those mountains in a single bound, break a window.”

He thought about Tripp’s suggestion—seconded by Jim—and tried to sound detached, as though his offer was motivated strictly by concern for her. “I’d feel more comfortable if you’d consider moving out here. Bring the cats. I have that back porch. It has no furniture, and it’s screened. For the winter, I’ve got glass panels to put in, and there’s a woodstove. You could use it for your work space.”

*

M
ELODY WAS TAKEN
off guard.

Not just a little.

A lot.

Was he asking her to
live
with him?

Sounded that way.

“It would make Harley really happy,” he said in a mild tone. “He has a serious crush on you.” And that nearly sealed the deal.

They really needed to work on their relationship skills, but she had to admit that was one persuasive argument. The dog snored softly and snuggled closer, as if it was a perfectly orchestrated moment planned between man and dog.

She checked to see if he had one eye open, but the critter in question did appear to be genuinely asleep.

“I don’t...don’t know what to say.” He’d certainly managed to fluster her.

“
Yes
would be my preference, but you can think about it. No instantaneous decision required.” He yawned. “I might go to bed soon. A good meal and a long day sure make a man sleepy.”

She must be touched in the head, or she had the backbone of a weeping willow branch. Before really thinking it over, she asked, “Too sleepy?”

He stared at her, the night breeze blowing a lock of dark hair across his forehead. Rakishly, of course. She was going to kill Bex for ever bringing that up. “Too sleepy for what?”

“Spencer Hogan,” she threatened, “if you make me say it out loud, forget it.”

In response, he did what he did best. Stood and scooped her up, tossing her over his shoulder, and told Harley, “Come.”

He walked through the house to his bedroom, depositing her on the mattress of his bed, looking into her eyes. “Suddenly, I’m awake.”

Melody found that laughter was at war with desire. “You enjoyed that way too much.”

He grinned and sat down to take off his boots. “It’s corny, I know. But it works like a charm.”

That choice of words made her eyes widen.

The pact
.

“You happen to be right where I want you.” He undid three buttons and then pulled his shirt over his head. “This is a private party,” he told Harley, shooing him out of the room. “Go sleep on the couch. I know you do it, I just never catch you at it.”

“He’s smarter than you are,” Melody informed him, enjoying the view of his muscular bare chest as he shut the door. “Goes without saying.”

“I wish I had a good argument in my favor, but I don’t.” As he walked back to the bed, his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ll just leave it that I’m damned glad you changed your mind.”

He unfastened her blouse, button by button, his fingers brushing her skin.

She unzipped his jeans.

One thing led to another.

So much for her earlier argument.

Their lovemaking was more intense than ever before, every kiss longer, every intimate touch lingering and when she trembled against him before he moved to enter her, she almost didn’t hear his whispered question. “Condom or no?”

It wasn’t as though he was giving her a lot of time to think about it. She was already caught in the upward spiral, her control slipping.

“No,” she said against his mouth.

He made a low sound of assent and slid deep inside her. As lovers they’d always been well-matched, their bodies naturally attuned to what they both wanted, and she climaxed almost immediately. He didn’t follow until it happened for her again.

Some time later, as his breathing eased into the pattern of sleep, his arm possessively around her, reality came jolting in. Melody wasn’t sure if she was more surprised by her own reckless behavior or by his. “I thought,” she said with as much composure as she could manage, “that you told me you’d never ignore contraception with any woman. Not without a serious discussion first. And by that I don’t mean...” She stopped, too embarrassed by her unrestrained reaction to continue.

Gorgeously rumpled, Spence urged her closer. The scythe of a moon hung in the window, throwing its silvery light on the room, on them. “First of all, you aren’t just any woman. And we did discuss it. You asked if I wanted kids. I said yes.”

“Now?”

“Last I knew, it took about nine months.”

“Every time you try to be funny, I want to punch you in the nose.”

“Let me remind you that I gave you the option. I asked whether you wanted to use protection or not. And you said
not.
”

“Yes, but—”

He nuzzled her neck, something he did very, very well. “I want you to live with me. I’ll take on the cats, although they’re weird. My dog likes you better than he likes me, which kind of hurts if you want the truth. Listen, Melody, I’m right here. Always will be. Don’t panic. As old as those condoms are, I doubt they work all that great, anyway. I didn’t get around to buying more because you told me I didn’t have a hope in hell with you. If it happens, it happens. Can we leave it there?”

“Easy for you to say! You don’t have to have the baby.”

So wrong, so wrong, but she realized she
wanted
to get pregnant.

He nudged her. “Yes, I do. We’d have it together.”

She relaxed against him.

He started to snore about two minutes later. It wasn’t loud, but a comfortable sound in the dark, just a gentle hint of respiration, and Melody fingered the bracelet around her wrist.

Maybe she could market the charms.

Not a bad idea.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

H
E PACKED UP
the horses, fastening the last saddlebag.

Reb was restive at the rein, but then he was always ready to run. When he was a two-year-old, Spence had considered keeping him a stallion because he was such a great-looking horse, but gelding him was the more prudent course of action, and he didn’t breed horses, he just wanted a good riding mount, and that was what he’d gotten.

“Easy,” he said, rubbing Reb’s neck. “This isn’t going to be that kind of ride. You’ll get to lead, so settle down. This is a walk, not a race. There are children involved. Behave yourself.”

The horse stilled and nibbled at his sleeve; apparently his explanation was a satisfactory one.

“Saddle up.” Moe sounded pretty official, but this was his project. “We’re going to hit the river and make camp by nightfall. We’re burning daylight.”

This wasn’t a John Wayne movie, so Spence hid his laugh as he swung onto his horse. He probably should’ve called out
Westward Ho
, but he’d spent part of the early hours checking in—boys and their parents, all of whom wanted reassurance that their darlings would be safe, and he was out of smiles.

He would have invited Harley along. Instead, he’d left him with Melody. Any excuse to make her more open to moving in with him. Plus, that mutt was a sight more canny than most people, and Spence liked the idea of her being protected. Harley was the single best alarm he could think of, so if someone came around the ranch, Harley would let her know, and loudly. They’d probably be able to hear him in the next county.

No progress with the robberies. It was the worst possible time for him to take off, but he’d committed to this. There really was no convenient agenda in his line of work.

The investigation was stagnant. Dead in the water. Not a bubble on the surface. No one even
under
the surface gasping for breath.

It wasn’t only because of Melody that he wanted to solve this. It was happening on his watch, and he took that seriously, didn’t like it one bit. Mustang Creek was a small town, he knew just about everyone, and yet he didn’t have a single clue.

Well
, he thought as he swung into the saddle,
maybe one
.

Before they were too far out they lost signal, he called Junie. “This is a little off the wall, but do you mind doing something for me?”

“Huh, I figured that’s what I got paid for. Like what?”

He pictured her with a pencil tucked behind her ear, sitting at her computer. “Can you run a background check on someone for me?”

“This dispatcher wears many hats. Can I have a raise?”

“No, ma’am. Just my undying gratitude.”

“We’ll see about that. Give me the name.”

A few hours later, he was toasting sandwiches for hungry boys on a campfire. They swarmed in and grabbed the grub with more enthusiasm, perhaps, than the simple cheese-and-tomato sandwiches warranted. Even Moe said, “Dang, I hope there’s some left for us.”

“Remember that age?” Spence did with some nostalgia. “If it was there, I ate it. When my aunt wanted to clean out the fridge, she used to shove whatever was left over—lasagna, a chicken leg, potato salad—on a plate. Then she’d come knock on my bedroom door. I’d take the plate and scarf it all down. It was food. Life was good.”

Moe hung his hands between his knees, sitting on a camp chair. “I suppose my life was the opposite in some ways. With my mother, everything was planned and organized to the nth degree. She always wanted us to sit down and talk about our day. What day? What the heck was that? I got up and went to school. End of story. Eventually when I hit my mid-teens, I started to rebel—against all the expectations, I guess. I got into trouble. Now I’m boring but predictable. I have a job I like and a wife I love. That’s how I keep everything going.” He paused. “That’s
why
I keep it going.” An hour later they were riding again.

The boys were following behind them in single file. Tripp had selected placid horses for this ride. Older trail horses tended to know the drill and didn’t need much direction. They also knew their way around human beings, while younger horses were sometimes skittish.

“I’m planning on burgers and camp fries tonight, and eggs and sausage in the morning. We didn’t promise meals with a lot of extras, right?”

“I brought some fruit salad.”

“Good idea.”

“My wife’s idea.”

“Genius. Tell me it isn’t the kind with coconut in it.”

“Boss, I have no idea. How it works at my house is if she makes it and sets it in front of me, I eat it.” He paused. “Sort of like it was with your aunt.”

“I have it on good authority that women are like cats and men are like dogs,” Spence said sagely.

“Huh?” Moe looked confused.

Spence had to laugh. “Never mind. I’m sure they’ll be hungry enough to eat everything we’ve got to offer, but I’m not going to insist. This is supposed to be fun. Nutrition’s an iffy thing for loads of kids, especially guys, until you’re in college, anyway. By the way, I packed some apples and oranges, so there’s lots of healthy stuff for anyone who wants it.”

Melody had also wisely suggested celery sticks and peanut butter and had even washed and cut up the celery. Moe’s friend in the forest service, an earnest young man named Steve Whitehall, who was riding at the back, making sure they didn’t lose anyone, had brought good old-fashioned trail mix for snacking. No one was going to starve to death, that was for sure.

The trip with the girls was going to be a whole different matter. He’d let Hadleigh, Bex and Melody handle that menu. Tripp had told him there was some discussion of white-chocolate-chip cookies with macadamia nuts, Black Forest brownies—whatever they were—and chicken with penne and alfredo sauce. At that point, his best friend claimed, his eyes had started to glaze over. Sounded good, and he was pretty sure he’d enjoy it, but that kind of meal over a campfire might be a little tricky. The fancy outfitters who handled rafting trips cooked up some gourmet trail grub, or so he’d been told, but they didn’t do it volunteer-style for a group of boys aged 12 to 16. Still, the women were pitching in, so he wasn’t going to mumble a word about their impractical menu.

Spence had decided he’d saddle horses and pitch tents on the girls’ trip, and otherwise stay out of it. He had visions of slumber parties with a lot of whispering and giggling, but he could sleep through just about anything, so surely he could weather that. He’d have Jim to talk to, and if he couldn’t share a tent or better yet, a sleeping bag, with Melody, at least he’d get to see her all day long for three entire days.

Her new work tools had arrived to replace the ones taken in the robbery. Tomorrow she’d be attending several estate sales in Bliss and the surrounding counties in search of a diamond to replace the one she’d lost. Not that it could actually
be
replaced, she’d said with heartfelt regret, but maybe she’d find a substitute for Mrs. Arbuckle’s nephew and his soon-to-be fiancée.

“Steve suggested Hack’s Ridge for camp tonight,” Moe said. He was on a paint gelding he’d broken himself, a spectacular animal that was so well trained Moe’s hands almost never moved the reins. He pointed to a line of timber. “Right up there. Level spot, small mountain spring, a clearing that’s safe for a fire. He went up and chopped wood yesterday. Tomorrow I think we’re going to wing it.”

“The three of us know this area pretty well.” Spence guided Reb around a washed-out spot on the trail and trusted that the other horses would go around it, too. He sent his deputy a sidelong glance. “I know you spend most weekends fishing and camping. Does Sherry ever go with you?”

“Oh, no.” Moe shook his head with a slight smile. “You should’ve seen what it took to get her to move here. City girl. I figure we’ll have a stable marriage because we don’t need to spend every second together. During the summer, she can have her weekends to shop and go out with her girlfriends, and I can do my outdoor thing. Match made in heaven.”

There was something to be said for diverse interests, and he was hoping for a match made in heaven himself.

“Hey, Chief, has it occurred to you that with half our department out of town, we might have more trouble over the weekend?”