PART THREE

Sweetwater

November, 1869

Five years was a long time in the West. Seasons changed, crops flourished, people were born and others died. It had been five years since Melanie Brooks had arrived in Sweetwater but it was so much a part of her now that she couldn't imagine living anywhere else. But more than the place itself, she cherished the lifestyle the land afforded her, and the people she had grown to love. Without her friendship with the extended Morgan family who had become her lifeline, Melanie's life would have been empty save the presence of her husband. As good as empty then, in her opinion.

She had never been particularly fond of Howard Brooks, not the way she expected to feel about her husband, and after five years of marriage she knew she never would. He wasn't always mean or violent, only on special occasions when he would drink to excess.

Melanie could usually tell when he was getting ready for such an episode, and without a word she would appear at Louise's door with a bag in hand. She would only stay a day or two - enough to keep out of Howard's way - but despite Lou's protestations she went back every time. Louise couldn't understand the sense of duty that forced her friend to do so, but in the end she had to concede that Melanie knew how to take care of herself. She did not show up with bruises any more, not that Louise could see anyway.

Melanie's life would have been perfect had it not been for Howard and his fits of rage. But secretly she blamed herself for his behavior, especially now that his chief grudge with her was the fact that they had no children. They had been married for five years and still she had not given him a son. For her part, Melanie would have given anything to have a baby, even if it tied her closer to Howard Brooks. It was a desire that she tried not to show anyone, not even Louise, but when Howard was feeling particularly spiteful he would taunt her with her barrenness - and it was the one cruelty that hurt her the most. To share this pain with her best friend would have been difficult, considering the three beautiful children she had borne.

Charlotte Rachel Morgan had been born the previous winter and was immediately the apple of her father's eye. Charlie, as she was soon dubbed by her brothers who were both hoping for another boy in the family, had Louise's looks and spirit from the moment she was born, and Melanie could not help but be occasionally jealous of Lou's family. To even have one child would have completed her life in a way that she had dreamt about since embarking on her new life in the West. To have someone to love and who would love her back unconditionally was something that she craved, especially since her failed union with Howard.

As he spent more and more time at the bank they became strangers to each other in their own home. He often stayed in town at night now, having made himself a small sleeping area in the back room at work. Melanie knew he did not spend all his time there. She knew he had a mistress in town… probably one of the poor young girls working at the numerous saloons who had found herself out West with no other means of supporting herself. Melanie was not annoyed, in fact she was often amused at the excuses and lies Howard told her to cover up his exploits. She continued to play his dutiful spouse in public but was glad her role as a wife ended there. Melanie did not know the mistress's name, but she often thought about meeting her one day - she wanted to shake her hand and thank her, whoever she was. The thought always made Melanie laugh out loud.

Howard's buggy was barely over the rise in the road before Melanie hurried to the small barn and retrieved the saddle Louise had given her. He had not relented on the subject of her riding horses even after all these years, but it was one defiance that she would not back down on. Instead she guarded her secret carefully by hiding the saddle under a pile of old feed sacks in the corner of the barn and biding her time. She knew Howard had no cause to ever enter the barn - he abhorred working around the farm - and old Sam who did odd jobs for her around the place was faithful in his silence.

So it was nearly every morning that Melanie was able to saddle her horse and treat herself to an hour or so of absolute freedom. She kept to the open plains away from any roads so she would be alone to enjoy the beauty of the land. Sometimes Melanie was so inspired by it all that she forgot all notion of time and it was not until lunch time that she would arrive at the Morgan ranch. Her morning rides were the one shred of independence that she clung to during her five year marriage to Howard Brooks - her sole consolation along with her friendship with Louise and her family.

The air was fresh and clean as she trotted along in the tall grass, and she breathed in deeply to savor the sweet smell of the wild flowers underfoot. Melanie wondered if she had ever seen such a perfect morning, as she was suddenly filled with happiness. It seemed as if nothing could spoil her mood that day and all her troubles were forgotten. With a grin she dug her heels sharply into the horse's sides, forcing him into a dead run. Melanie knew the old horse didn't like it - he was used to pulling the buggy - but the urge to race across the plains got the better of her. The wind whistled past her ears, her auburn hair spilling out of its intricate bun and streaming out behind her. She laughed at the folly of her actions, but she was having too good a time to even care.

When her horse started to snort in protest and chew at his bit, Melanie relented and drew in the reins. She was almost as breathless as the gelding and eagerly headed for the nearest water. Loping up to the creek which had swollen considerably in size after a day of rain, she was relieved to see it was not running too fast. She paused a moment to allow the horse to water and looked around carefully for the best spot to cross, then kicked him lightly to urge him into the muddy water. The cold water splashed at her skirts as they crossed, but Melanie was enjoying the sunshine too much to even notice. The sky was free of clouds after the gloomy day before, it was if the rain had washed away everything unsightly that would mar her view.

Melanie was too engrossed in the beauty around her to notice that her horse had slowed considerably as they neared the far side of the creek, his steps heavier in the shallower water. When he stopped completely she absently kicked him again, knowing that Louise was expecting her soon and she didn't want to be late. She had promised to take care of Charlie for the afternoon, and Melanie did not want to miss a moment of her time with the young girl. The horse took another tentative step forward, but the mud of the creek bed had gotten so thick that his hooves simply sank again into the sludge.

"Come on, you lazy old thing, it's not far now," Melanie said, but the old horse remain unmoved. He seemed quite content to stay where he was, and even bent his head to drink again. Melanie sighed impatiently and kicked him forward to no avail. She looked enviously at the bank that was so close, and then at the light brown water and thick mud that separated them. When it was obvious that the horse refused to move at all, she had no alternative but to dismount and try and pull him out herself.

The water only came to just above her knees but she immediately sank further as the mud sucked at her boots. Melanie grimaced at the feel of it, and knew they would be ruined. She took hold of the reins and tried a few hesitant steps, straining to find a foothold in the soft creek bed. The horse watched her with a lazy eye as she attempted to pull him towards the bank, and if she didn't know any better she would have sworn he was punishing her for making him run so hard on the plains. No matter how much she strained they made no progress. Melanie was fast losing patience with the stubborn horse who refused even to try and get himself unbogged, and was tempted to leave him there just to spite him.

"Stay here then, see if I care," she muttered crossly.

"Now that would be a terrible waste of a horse."

Melanie was startled at the deep voice which seemed to come out of nowhere. She whirled around quickly to see who had spoken, but her feet where so deeply sunken into the mud that she nearly fell over into the water with the effort. Her arms flailed wildly in order to balance herself, which caused a laugh from the mounted stranger on the creek bank. Melanie straightened herself with as much dignity as a woman in her precarious position could muster and tried to speak calmly.

"Perhaps rather than laughing you might be a gentleman and help me out of this creek," she said regally, despite her muddied clothes and hair that was in disarray after galloping over the plains. Even in that state she could still conduct herself like a Minneapolis lady.

The man raised his eyebrows slightly and shrugged, as if he would have to consider his options. While he took his time making up his mind, Melanie grew impatient. He was dressed impeccably in a black linen suit, but the guns strapped to his hips made it obvious he was no preacher. The fact that he seemed to have taken so much care with his immaculate appearance also proved that he wasn't from Sweetwater. Melanie decided he must be one of the traveling gamblers that frequented the saloons in town and that she had often seen strolling without purpose through the streets. People like that tended to stick out like a sore thumb in a town like Sweetwater, whose general population had to work for a living. Melanie realized she was probably foolish for asking a scamp like that to help her, but under the circumstances she had no choice. Besides, the man did not appear to be dangerous, he was just infuriating.

"I realize it may be an imposition, sir, but either you will help me or not," she said finally, when he just sat there on his horse watching her with amusement in his eyes.

"Well now, I have to consider the fact that I might get muddy myself," he replied, and smiled at the indignation that appeared the woman's face. "This is a new suit after all."

Melanie narrowed her eyes in fury and jerked at her horses reins, determined now to get herself out of the creek rather than accept help from such a scoundrel who would rather sit there and laugh at her.

"Come on, you damn beast," she growled under her breath. The horse just looked bored.

The man on bank finally kicked his own mount forward and carefully made his way towards her, coming at Melanie from the side so he too would not be bogged in the mud.

"I guess I can't ignore a damsel in distress," he said lightly as he pulled up beside her. He held out a black gloved hand to her after tipping his hat mischievously. "Ma'am…"

Melanie ignored his facetious words and reluctantly took his hand, knowing that she would be stuck there permanently if she didn't. She gasped as the man effortlessly lifted her bodily out of the mud and onto his horse, his strong arm wrapped around her waist. Balancing her on his lap, he took her horse's reins out of her tight grasp and kicked his own animal forward. His horse was big and strong and was easily clear of the mud, dragging Melanie's nag behind them.

When they had reached the safety of the creek bank the man kept hold of Melanie's waist a little longer than necessary. She tried to thank him but he was staring at her with dark eyes that twinkled as he smiled at her. She was so close to his face that she could see the fine lines around his eyes from the sun and a small scar that ran along his jaw line. The musky cologne he wore tickled her nose as he sat there with her in his arms, not in any hurry and not in the least concerned with the impropriety of the situation. Melanie wondered if he expected her to kiss him in return for rescuing her. She was shocked at the impudence of the man, but there was something bewitching in his eyes that she tried to avoid staring at. She could not deny that he was handsome, even if he probably was a cad. Before she grew too uncomfortable under his gaze, he let go of her waist without warning and dropped her on the ground without much grace. Melanie had to regain her balance after the abrupt movement, and once again her temper flared at the man's behavior.

"Your dress is ruined," he commented lightly, not in the least troubled.

"I see your suit is not," she said through gritted teeth, trying to muster the good manners to at least thank the man for helping her. It was a difficult task, especially when he kept looking at her with those laughing eyes. "I thank you for your kindness, sir," she managed coldly.

"Just glad I could be of service, ma'am," the man replied, tipping his hat again in such an facetious manner that Melanie snatched back her horse's reins and promptly turned her back on him.

Her skirts were wet and heavy as she tried to mount her horse, and she was unable to pull it off cleanly. He had started laughing quietly at her hapless movements, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"If you're ever in need of rescuing from a muddy creek bed again, I hope you'll allow me the honor," he bowed chivalrously as she prepared to ride away.

"I would rather drown," Melanie said with disdain. She kicked her horse hard and quickly rode away, his laughter following her.