The Claws of the Cat – Chapter 2
One year before
It was impossible not to notice her, a tall, uncommonly beautiful woman with almond shaped, mesmerizing turquoise eyes. Her light blue morning dress brought out the generous figure of her body, a ribbon of the same color in her honey blonde, gently waving hair.
As her employer was very busy around her client, Melanie quickly ran through, cataloged and stored the samples of the last cloths that had arrived that very morning from San Francisco. Mrs. Owles owned the only boutique in Stockton and Melanie had been working for her since her father's death.
"Give my best to the Family, Mrs. Barkley," Idanell chirped cheerfully, grateful for the good amount of money the woman had just spent.
Mrs. Barkley? Who… Maybe Jarrod?
"I will, thank you," the woman replied kindly, walking gracefully through the door, as the older woman was keeping it open for her, a stack of packages of different sizes and shapes in her hands.
"You count on that dress being ready by Thursday," Idanell added diligently.
"Thursday will be fine," Mrs. Barkley added with a charming smile, before stepping outside.
"Mrs. Barkley?" Melanie asked rather casually, her hands expertly flying among the shelves, tiptoeing to reach the top one.
"Oh, darling, haven't you heard? That is Nick Barkley's wife."
Melanie's heart sunk. Nick Barkley's wife.
To know Nick Barkley was to love him, and Melanie had secretly loved him her whole life since childhood. For years, he hadn't even known she existed. Melanie had just patiently waited, watching his many loves come and pass, year after year, knowing one day her moment would come. And the moment did come. Things were actually getting serious between them. Until the dreadful day Jock McLean had swooped down on the River Monarch gold like a hawk on its prey, killed her father, destroyed all her dreams.
Like a castaway, she had walked barefoot, wounded, through the wrecks of the old boat, and of her life. Eventually, she had found the shore. But nothing, nothing had ever been the same since.
That day, she had swallowed her pride and had gone to him, to admit her fault, to ask for his forgiveness.
The front door of the Barkley mansion opened and Silas, the family old faithful servant, appeared. "I'd like to see Mr. Nick, Silas," she asked timidly.
Silas turned his head, talking to someone who was in the foyer. "Miss Melanie, Nick," he announced rather uncharacteristically, skipping the "Mr." he usually called him. Nick had once confided that he happened to switch back to their Christian names, when the Barkley children were sick or injured. And, injured Nick was, a white bandage around his forehead, where her father's friends' bullet had grazed him. She just wanted to fly to him, fall into his arms, hold him, make sure he was alright. But, the cold expression of surprise on his face told her better. He wasn't expecting to see her, and certainly he didn't want her in his arms. A lump instantly formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard.
"May I come in?" Melanie spoke to him directly, bypassing Mrs. Barkley, who was closer.
"Nick just nodded, not speaking a word in reply. Melanie made a few steps inside the house, but Victoria Barkley was standing there, protectively, a motherly barrier between her and Nick.
"Mrs. Barkley," Melanie greeted her, her hands clasped together, as she moved them nervously to quell her nerves. The white-headed woman acknowledged her greeting with a nod, her cold eyes challenging her to just make a move, just a move to harm her son.
"Nick…" Melanie's voice failed her when she pronounced his name, sobs welling up in her throat, choking her.
"Hello," he just said.
"I… I would like to speak to you, Nick," she stuttered, repeating his name, in a vain attempt of reminding him of their intimacy. Don't you recognize me, Nick? It's me, it's Melanie!
"I'll get some coffee," Victoria Barkley said dryly, guessing their need to be alone.
"Thank you, Mrs. Barkley," Melanie said, sincerely grateful of the older woman's discretion, as she disappeared beyond the golden curtains.
"If you've come to see about the state of my health…" Nick began bitterly.
"Nick…" Melanie breathed disconsolately, coming one step closer as she yet again called his name.
"…and if your friends are interested…"
"Nick," she insisted, more incisively this time, interrupting his non-senses. "I'm here because you mean very much to me…" She hesitated at the incredulity displayed all over his face.
"I've hated doing what I've had to do…" It felt like a losing battle trying to speak, breathe, and fight the tears all at the same time. But she would tell what she'd come to tell. The next words would be the hardest to speak. "Avoiding you… lying… but there seemed to be no other way." She inhaled deeply, gathering her strength. "Nick, you were right, my father was involved. Your father will be cleared."
Nick frowned. "You sure?" he asked.
Melanie nodded. "I'm sure. I wanted you to hear this from me."
"Does Jock know?"
Melanie nodded again, repeatedly for more emphasis. "Father offered Lieutenant McLean a trade: the return of the gold in exchange for amnesty for his friends." She cocked her head slightly, struggling to find the words. "My father's meeting with Mr.… With McLean, now, to… take him to the gold." She shrugged. "That's… That's all I came to say. Good-bye, Nick."
Melanie turned on her heels and made two quick steps toward the front door. She had made it so far, she had done what she had come to do and now she just needed to get out of there. Out, far from his accusing eyes. Out, far from his condemnation of her, of her father. Far from his not understanding. All she needed was to be out of there and disappear.
"Melanie!"
Nick's voice. Nick's voice calling her name. She stopped.
He reached her, and was right behind her shoulders, when he spoke. "I would have acted the same way if my father's life was at stake." There was no accusation, no condemnation in his voice. It was Nick's warm and caring voice. She savored the moment, pretending for just one moment – oh please, for just one moment - nothing had ever happened, that they were still the same.
"I even risked losing someone I cared very much about, just for his reputation." Melanie gulped against the lump in her throat as a lonely tear finally escaped past her eye, along her cheek and down her chin.
Nick put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing fondly, and turned her around as she closed her eyes, finally surrendering to the feelings that overwhelmed her: fear, regret, relief, and love. He took her chin between his thumb and index finger, tenderly lifting her head up, gazing deeply into her teary eyes with his warm hazel ones.
They embraced desperately, Melanie's head resting on his shoulder as she began to cry; feeling free, at last, to stop fighting.
"It's alright… it's alright," he soothed between her sobs. "I'm here."
That had been the last time she had ever seen him.
Melanie had been distractedly aware of Idanell talking and talking, but she hadn't been listening, the memory, the vision of her last encounter with Nick leaving her shaken and dizzy. She grasped the counter to find her balance.
"Melanie?" The woman called her, "Are you feeling alright? You're looking pale, dear."
"I'm okay, Mrs. Owles," she said drying the moisture in her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffling, trying to regain her composure. "It's just… I think I laced my corset a little too tightly," she said letting out a little laugh.
"Oh, that's not good for your lungs," the woman said.
"What were you saying about Mrs. Barkley?" Melanie asked as soon as she was sure she wouldn't faint.
"Oh, that's interesting, you will love it. Nick came back one day from one of his business trips with this mysterious woman and introduced her to the Barkleys as his wife. Would you believe it? It took poor Victoria Barkley quite a while to recover from the shock." Idanell gave a little chuckle, finding the thing funny.
"They're living all together in the big house, but he's building a majestic mansion for her, in the most spectacular, panoramic spot on the Barkley land. Oh, I wouldn't expect any less from Nick Barkley. He's so romantic, and handsome, don't you think, Melanie?" If Idanell had ever known about Nick Barkley and Melanie De Land's love story, she must have forgotten. The woman liked a good gossip, but had taken Melanie under her wings and would never purposely hurt her.
"He sure is," Melanie admitted."
"He's very much in love, I'm told. After all, she's a real beauty, isn't she?"
"Yes, she sure is," Melanie, again, had to admit. "What's her name?" Melanie asked, suddenly feeling she had to know it, like if the name alone could tell her something about the woman who had married the only man she had ever loved.
"Sabrina. Sabrina Barkley is her name," Idanell proclaimed.
