While many had gone from girl to woman sheltered and coddled, Melody had grown up among thieves and ruffians. Through it all she had gained a sense of integrity, not lost it.
Joe walked up and touched her elbow. “Come on, Melody.”
“I’ve got to speak with my father alone, but I’ll be along.”
“Not on your life!” Dixie Dawson claimed her husband by latching on to his coat sleeve and tugging him down the walkway.
“Papa?” Melody hurried after her father.
“You’ve done enough damage for one lifetime, young woman.” It was fair to say that the stepmother actually growled.
“Papa, don’t you want to meet your grandsons?”
The man stopped and turned. His eyes brightened for an instant but they still seemed drawn and weary.
“Grandsons?”
“Those brats don’t have anything to do with us. They’ll only cause trouble.”
“I’d like to see—”
“Come along, Porter.” Dixie pulled Mr. Dawson down the path. He didn’t protest again even when his wife shooed him up the front steps of the house across the road as if he was a chicken being put away for the night.
Melody’s shoulders trembled; her hands twisted into white fists.
“I’m home for good, Papa,” she called. “I’ll be staying at the hotel until I get settled.”
“Your mama left you the house,” Porter Dawson answered while his wife tried to drag him inside. “The back door is open.”
“You old fool,” he heard Dixie grumble. Without trying to hide what she did, she yanked her husband’s ear. “Keep your mouth shut.”
“The sky’s clouding up. We’d better get the children out of the weather before it snows,” Reeve said, touching Melody’s shoulder to urge her toward the wagon.
“I don’t know him. He’s my father, but he’s not the one I left behind.” She looked up at Reeve, her amber eyes wide and hurting. “My daddy was so strong. Whatever happened to him is my fault.”
“We can talk about it later. First we need to get the children fed and settled.”
He wished that she would lean into him for comfort. It would feel natural to hug her close. The one thing he wanted at this moment was to ease her grief. He knew, of course, that he couldn’t. It was impossible.
All one could hope for was to wade through the pain. To come out on the other side stronger, and if not exactly healed, at least able to feel life’s joy again.
He knew she had the strength to be all right in the end, but all of a sudden it felt wrong to leave her.
He’d spent his life being a protector, but he’d never felt the need to watch over another person who wasn’t kin. Maybe it was because of the children, her own and the ones she had taken on. Or it might be that her inner strength combined with her delicate beauty touched him in a way he hadn’t been touched before.
Whatever it was that called him to her, he could not abandon her, just now, to pick up the threads of her life alone.
* * *
Reeve sat on his bed and took off his boots. It was late, the fire in the grate had fallen to embers and it was well past time to get some rest.
Unfortunately, restlessness had been his companion much of the evening, keeping him pacing the floor and watching the snow drift beyond the window.
Melody was in a fix, and he wondered what he could do to turn things around. She hadn’t returned home to the welcome of her parents as she had expected. Even the parent she had left was in no position to give her support.
It wouldn’t be right to ride off, leaving her and the children with their lives in an upheaval.
He wouldn’t do it.
Still, ignoring his obligation as a US marshal weighed heavily upon him.
He could take a few more days. After that it was his duty to get back to work, to bring law and order to a wild land. There was still the matter of a couple of Traverses who had escaped justice. He’d need to apprehend them.
A quiet knock sounded at his door. He crossed the room and opened it.
“Miss Libby? What are you doing out in the hall at this hour?” He was surprised to see her at his door, a lamp in hand and her bare toes peeking out from under her sleeping gown. “You ought to be in your room.”
“It’s Melody, Marshal Prentis. I don’t know where she is. She fed the baby an hour ago, then went out. She hasn’t come back. She hasn’t cried yet like she ought to, either. I’m right worried.”
“I’ll walk you back to your room.” He crossed to the bed, sat down and yanked his boots back on. “I reckon she’s gone home. She probably needs some time alone. Would you mind tending the others for a while?”
This late at night, the hotel was quiet. Only a few snores came from behind the closed doors along the hallway.
“I’ll let you know when I find her. And, Libby, you did right to come to me.”
“I didn’t have anyone else to turn to.” She opened the door to her room, then stepped inside. Closing the door halfway, she peered around it. “I wish...well, I wish I wasn’t too young to marry you, but since I am, there’s Melody. Joe and I have been watching, and we think you would suit her just fine.”
“I’d be honored if she favored me that way, Libby, but the truth is my profession makes me something of a nomad and Miss Dawson needs to settle. I’m afraid we wouldn’t be right for one another.”
Even if they were right, even if she was the one person in the world who was perfect for him, he had a penance to pay. He might never be able to make amends for what he had done to his family, but he would spend the rest of his life trying.
* * *
Melody’s mind recognized the fact that the night was frigid but somehow she didn’t feel it. She didn’t feel anything at all. Wind shot snow at her face and caked the toes of her boots, but she was already numb, body and soul.
Mama...just the name in Melody’s mind cut her heart to shreds. No matter the pain, all she could think of was going home.
She carried a lantern that she had borrowed from the hotel through the darkness. A circle of light surrounded her, making the snowflakes swirling about glitter. There had been a time when the shimmer and sparkle would have delighted her. Now it only made the knot in her chest constrict.
Mama had been partial to snow. She used to catch the flakes on her tongue and spin about with her arms spread wide. Then, pink-cheeked with cold, she would dash into the house to bake something warm and cozy. Cookies most of the time. On days like that, Melody would have the joy of cracking eggs and dumping them into the batter,
