The Marriage Charm (Bliss County 2) (24 page)

BOOK: The Marriage Charm (Bliss County 2)
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“Sure has.”

The trail ride was no secret. Or who was sponsoring it.

He hoped the thief would be bold enough to hit again. If Junie and Estes delivered, he’d have a solid suspect. Suspect, singular. Because he was beginning to think there was only one person involved.

*

M
ELODY SURVEYED
S
PENCE’S
back porch and thought it over.

Spence would be the first to admit he wasn’t an artist, but he’d made a valid point about the light. In three of the four seasons it would be better than good, and in the winter, with a woodstove, it should still work.

She had no idea what to do.

For one thing, she liked her cozy house. It was hers alone, and it was comfortably set up to her exact taste and specifications. The cats could reign over their sovereign kingdom with iron-clad paws.

But...Spence’s house was spacious and could use a little TLC. For a bachelor, he managed to keep it pretty clean, although she did find a shrunken bar of soap in the bathroom off the master bedroom. There were only three rather threadbare towels in the linen closet; laundry didn’t seem high on his to-do list. And while Harley had plenty of food, and she had no doubt he looked after Reb with the greatest diligence, he had almost nothing in the fridge
or
the freezer.

This urge to take care of him...where did that come from? If anyone could take care of Spencer Hogan, it was the man himself.

The auction over in the next county was scheduled for noon, and she had a quick shower then headed out, not really hopeful, but you never knew. There were treasures out there. It was all about being at the right place, at the right time. She’d made a whimsical mobile once from antique spoons, and it had been snapped up by a storekeeper who’d called to tell her it had sold the next day.

At least the weather was nice. Neither Bex nor Hadleigh was free to go with her, so she went by herself and sat with her number card in a folding chair, hoping for the best. She wasn’t going to get another Rochester Pierce diamond, but something might inspire her.

She had a vision, too, of something for Spence’s house.

She had an idea, and a design in mind. What she wanted to create for him was a clock, a very special one.

And then she found the perfect piece.

It was part of an antique urn, and it had a unique patina, which caught her eye, and she placed a bid on it. This clock would have numbers that were all subtly different from each other and a picture of the ranch as its background... She’d have to cut out the numbers from the thin metal of the urn and create the face. She’d get Tripp to help her use his power tools for that. She was a jewelry maker, not a clocksmith, but she’d stowed away the old workings from a Seth Thomas piece.

The picture would be hand-painted and just for Spence. She’d have to find the right perspective, figure out the perfect medium. Water paints? Oils? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to do it.

Whatever happened between them, he’d remember her every time he looked at it.

She wanted to make him a beautiful clock that would hang on the wall for the rest of his life, because she was sure he’d spend it in the house he’d invited her to live in. With him.

No mention of marriage.

She needed a discussion about this.

I could use some girl talk. Call me.

One simple text sent to two people.

Bex called her immediately. “My house or yours?”

“I’m thinking Tripp and Hadleigh’s. I need to ask him a favor. Wait, she’s beeping in.”

“Call me back.”

“Will do.”

“Okay, what’s up?” Hadleigh asked. “Guess what I’m doing? I’m making a brisket. I’m trying it out on Tripp first and then I plan to make sandwiches for the trail ride. He keeps coming into the kitchen and hovering, so it must smell good. I’m about to kick his ass. Come on over and save him.”

“Potatoes?” Melody asked with resignation.

“He’ll be heartbroken if you don’t bring ’em. They were gobbled up so fast the other night he hardly got any, or so he claims, although I could swear he had two helpings. Do the extra-cheese thing again and bring a swimsuit. We’ll be real pioneer women and sit in the hot tub for our girl talk.”

She did need to ask Tripp a favor, so if he needed extra cheese, she could handle it. “I’m not sure pioneer women sat in hot tubs, but it’s a go for me.”

“They would have if they had any.”

Two hours later, she found herself sitting in warm bubbling water on the back deck, with two pairs of inquisitive eyes focused in her direction. She stuck her foot out of the water and wiggled her toes. “Like my new nail polish? Sunrise blush.”

“Very nice,” Bex agreed. “I want that job, you know, the one where they make up names for nail polish. I’m sure they say, ‘Hey, we could just call it pink, but let’s come up with something different and then we can charge a lot more.’ Anyway, forget your tootsies and give. Girl talk time.”

“Yes, give,” Hadleigh echoed.

Might as well. It wasn’t as if they weren’t going to hear about it, anyway. Melody reached over and pushed a button to quiet the jets. “Spence asked me to move in with him.”

“Do it.” Hadleigh.

“Don’t.” Bex.

She’d expected a united front one way or the other, but not differing opinions.

“Oh, you two are helpful. Thanks a lot.” She swept a froth of bubbles across the water. The hot tub was relaxing, and her muscles began to loosen. She let out a frustrated breath and held up her wrist, displaying the bracelet. “Apparently, my charm has lost its mojo. I want to hear your arguments, one at a time.”

Hadleigh, who had the unfair advantage of having a light tropical tan so she looked fabulous in her suit, went first. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea to find out if you can stand to live together, day in and day out, before you take the plunge. The two of you have a rocky history, so maybe taking a stab at living together makes sense.”

If there was going to
be
a plunge. Spence hadn’t given any indication that he was poised to dive into those waters. So to speak... Maybe it was more appropriate to say
dive off that particular mountain
.

Bex argued, “I understand the robbery shook him up. It upset and worried me, too. But I think you deserve it
all
, Mel. The ring, the proposal, the wedding, the
love,
we all promised each other we’d wait for. He wants to protect you, and I’m glad, but we swore we’d hold out for
everything
.”

They both had valid points, and on a scale of one to ten, her confusion level was about a twenty.

“I need to talk to him,” she said. “Marriage—yes, I want it. But I want
him
to want it, too.”

Both of her best friends were so obviously, so transparently, relieved, Melody just had to respond. “What?” she asked. “You thought I didn’t?”

They looked at each other and then back at her. “No,” Bex replied. “More like we knew you did, but we weren’t sure you’d ever admit it.”

She supposed it was no secret that she was in love with Spencer Hogan. Always had been.

“The thing is, I can’t make him talk about it.” She skimmed her hand over the shimmering water. “It’s truly his choice. And it’s not as if I want to risk asking him again, do I?”

“Why
not
ask?” Hadleigh had that singular glint in her eye. “I say if the time is right, go for it.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

T
HE HORSES WENT
through the canyon in single file, well behaved. It sure didn’t hurt that the weather held, with nary a drop of rain, cloudless blue skies and constant sunshine. Although the boys were a little rowdy, they’d been pretty good so far.

At night there’d been some serious playing with electronic devices in their tents, but Spence couldn’t care less about that if they stuck to the rules the rest of the time.

No cell phones. There wasn’t a tower nearby, so that didn’t require a lot of discipline.

No fighting. He really meant that one. He could break up a brawl with the best of them, but he’d rather they found their own peace if there was an argument. Every testosterone-laden male needed to learn self-control, not to get his back up over every little thing.

Life lesson. He hoped they’d go home with a positive attitude toward not just law enforcement, but also the nature all around them. Many kids, maybe most kids, didn’t have access to that. If this trip continued to go well, maybe next year they could extend it to Casper or Cheyenne.

He missed Melody.

Not just the physical part of being with her—oh, he did miss that—but the quiet stir of her breathing in the dark, and her soft warmth when he rolled over in bed and encountered her tempting body. The night before, he’d had a dream in which he was walking along a road alone, getting nowhere fast, no houses in sight, nothing but prairie. In his dream, he’d been searching for something—someone—but he’d seen nothing, no one. He’d started to run in a panic until he woke up sweating.

He didn’t need a psychologist to interpret that one. Maybe what he should do was just buy her a regular ring, although his confidence in picking out the right one was null and void. Not to mention that proposing wasn’t exactly without challenges.

She could say no.

That would be bittersweet revenge. Once, she’d proposed to him, and he’d declined. She’d never forgiven him.

Oh, good, a double play, with his heart in the balance. He probably deserved it, but he didn’t want it to go down that way.

An eagle disrupted his thoughts, soaring overhead in a graceful and powerful glide, its high scream echoing off the rock walls. Behind him he could hear Steve Whitehall lecture the boys on raptors, and whether the information registered or not, the sight was undeniably beautiful.

*

H
E PULLED OUT
his phone. Still no signal, which he’d expected, but he’d love to know if Junie had found out anything that might help him.

Two clues stuck in his mind. The antiques store and the unusual wreckage at Melody’s house. He didn’t like either one of them.

Maybe the thief hadn’t known the diamond was there, but Spence was starting to think differently about that. It was clearly Melody’s mistake not to put it away, but, unlike some people, she operated on the assumption that the world was a nice place, and people were basically good.

One of the things he loved about her.

They were setting up the tents, crouching in the pine needles and dirt, when he asked Moe a serious question. “So we have seven robberies now with fairly consistent methods of entry. Melody’s smashed window is the most drastic. The theft at her place was also the most extreme. Is the thief accelerating the action and if so, why? I keep groping around that and wondering what’s going on. All thoughts are welcome.”

The true test of a deputy.

Moe moved to pile wood on the communal campfire. Steve was out guiding boys through the woods, giving them a tour of the coming fall wildflowers. They probably didn’t give a rat’s ass about wildflowers, but it was educational. Teach them about nature in all its beauty and diversity. Wasn’t that one reason they were out here?

“Our thief—and I notice you’re referring to
a
thief rather than thieves—is very focused on the community.” Moe handed him some tinder, tiny cedar sticks from saplings. “Observant. Knows his stuff when it comes to schedules, and he’s got testicles as big as canned hams.”

Spence was amused by that last bit. He lit a small twig, and it started to burn. “Interesting choice of words. How so?”

“Robbing a man of his trolling motor is not a good idea. Robbing a woman of jewelry is a
really
bad idea, and if it’s her livelihood, you’ve really gone and done it.”

Melody had been mad as a wet hen. He didn’t blame her.

Moe tossed a pile of leaves onto the fire, which Spence wouldn’t have done, but he hadn’t taken part in any extracurricular activities, like organized camping trips. Not with his upbringing. His aunt Libby had been taxed enough just getting him to school on time. He’d learned his way around a campfire or two by experience. Moe finally said, “I think he’s done his homework and figured out that Mustang Creek works a certain way, and it’s possible to take advantage of people who might not see it coming.”

“Like Melody Nolan?”

“Yeah.”

In the flickering light as the campfire caught, Moe’s face was set. “All easy targets. No huge heists or anything. Women and older men. The thief knew about their valuables.”

“How?”

“I’m still working that out.” Moe got up and grabbed a pine log to add to the fire. In the background the boys were laughing as they unsaddled the horses, and Spence was one hundred percent positive he’d have to make sure they were all rubbed down properly, but these kids were learning pretty fast. They grumbled about cleaning the tack. In general, however, they’d been compliant and seemed to be enjoying themselves.

The first morning, when he’d shown them how to put a bridle on a horse, warming the bit in his hands so the metal wasn’t cold as you slipped it into the animal’s mouth, some of the boys had really stepped up. Horses were big animals, no doubt about it, and when you were a kid, they seemed even bigger. Some had been intimidated, but he was fairly confident that by tomorrow morning everyone would be able to saddle his own horse.

Progress.

He was as new to this as they were in some ways and could sympathize. These kids weren’t exactly city boys, because Bliss County was fairly rural, but not everyone had the same advantages.

He’d had very few, since his aunt really couldn’t afford it. But she’d loved him and done what she could, and that was so much better than going into the child services system, which might have been the only other option. He needed to drop that card or letter from his mother at Libby’s place, but one thing at a time. Obviously he was putting it off, but for now he was going to concentrate on the investigation and the trail rides. That had to come first. After all these years, his mother could come in a slow second.

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