Chapter 5

Melody

 

Melody stared between James and Stryder. Her chest ached and she didn’t know what to say. After a moment, she shook her head minutely and murmured, “Thank you, James, you’re so sweet. I’m fine.” She smiled with a soft flirting edge to her lips. She only used that smile for her customers. James cast another glance between Melody and Stryder before returning to his table.

She studied Stryder, not hiding her searching gaze. He wanted to help? What would he do? Him and all his money. He could pay her debts, every last one of them, and she’d no longer be in danger of losing her house. She’d no longer owe money to the bank for a house that had been in her family for generations.

No… she’d replace one debtor with another and to be honest, she’d rather lose everything to the bank than owe Stryder one red cent.

Holding in her frustration that Stryder thought he could just ride into town – without a cowboy hat, to boot! – and act like it was his right or even in his interest to offer to help her. He wasn’t her knight in shining armor. He had no right to do that. He’d given up his rights when he left.

Melody shook her head as she turned from him, heading toward the kitchen. She would control her frustration. She would. She could. It threatened to boil over, but that’s okay. She was getting herself away from the problem, even as she longed to throw herself in his arms and beg him for answers for why he’d left her.

Tom watched her, smiling with an oily sheen to his skin. He nodded his head and flicked his gaze toward Stryder. “Did he order anything expensive?”

Melody stopped walking and stared at Tom long enough to make him squirm. He narrowed his eyes and slapped the stainless steel. “Don’t be a dumb blonde, Melody. Give me the order.”

Smiling long and slow, Melody shifted her feet. She couldn’t stop herself, even if she tried. She pulled out her ordering pad, scribbled “Reuben” on the top ticket and slapped it on the serving area surface next to his hand. She leaned in close, snarling, “I’m not blonde, you dumb pig. I quit.”

She jerked off her apron and set it on the counter. Ignoring the open-mouthed expression on Tom’s face, she grabbed her things.

Of course, she needed the job – more than anything – but Melody had nothing else to hold onto – if not her pride. After her father’s death and the multiple threats against her house and all she owned, she was at her breaking point.

She didn’t look back as she strode from the restaurant, her arms swinging and the slight Montana breeze lifting her hair.

Her old beat up red Ford pickup truck waited for her under the boughs of a sky-scraping pine tree.

Climbing in, Melody turned the key she left in the ignition. If someone wanted to steel Ole Red, then have at it. She probably needed to change her attitude on that one, but there in Two Rides, there wasn’t a lot of theft or vandalism – if any.

Shifting into gear, she turned the wheel and pressed on the gas. Spewing loose gravel all over a shiny charcoal BMW, she hoped was Stryder’s, she peeled out of the parking lot. Oh, please be Stryder’s. If not, then it would be Stidwell’s. She didn’t abhor the idea of spraying his car with rocks, but at the same time, he lived there in town and she didn’t want to deal with the aftermath of anything that might come from the repercussions.

She glanced at her gas gauge and tried to remember how much she’d made the night before. Close to eighty bucks was all she’d made since the week started. She could guarantee that Tom wouldn’t pay her for the hours in the current pay period. Melody wasn’t stupid. He would hold onto it until she came back in to grovel for it.

That would never happen, so she’d never see that money.

Eighty bucks. That was it. Tears burned her cheeks and she sniffed, swiping at her skin. She didn’t even know why she was so upset. She’d lost a job that didn’t pay her anything, certainly not enough to cover her bills. She was spending all her time there when she should be trying to figure out a way to save the Steel Ranch. Sadly, she hadn’t thought further than keep her job and pay the bills.

But the bills were out of control. She had to sell a lot more of her family’s things, if she wanted to get ahead. A lot more.

Twenty minutes later, she pulled into the long dirt driveway that was a brute to clear in the winter, but that actually looked picturesque in the summer. Driving up the path, Melody parked behind the old farmhouse she’d lived at her entire life and her daddy had lived at and his dad had lived at. Four generations of Steels had lived in that home. She was so close to losing it.

There she was, unable to keep it longer than a week or so after her dad died.

Parking the truck, she didn’t go into the house. Instead, she headed into the barn. The big old red building with its peeling paint and quiet air. They hadn’t had horses in years.

Opening the door, she didn’t bother closing it as she approached the covered old Corvette in its own stall. Her dad had parked the ‘Vette in an oversized horse stall, covered it with a car cover and closed the stall door. He hadn’t taken the car out in years, but he always worked on it, started it, made sure it was running well and shiny.

He’d loved that car more than the land, more than anything except alcohol. Certainly, more than Melody.

If Melody sold the ‘Vette… she could keep the house and the land. She could eat something more substantial than twenty-cent bags of ramen. Maybe she could hold her head up a bit until she got another job – not a real possibility in Two Rides, but she could hope.

Peeling back the soft car cover enough to open the driver’s door and leave the windshield uncovered, Melody slid into the bucket seat and gripped the smooth, cool steering wheel.

Leaning her head back, she stared into the quiet, dim lighting. She had to choose and that was obvious. Time was running out.

But she couldn’t focus. Her head was a mess and her heart was screaming for answers.

Why was Stryder back? What had he meant when he’d offered to help her? How did he know what to do to help? Why did Stryder have to come back and see her at her lowest?

Melody wiped the tears from her face that she’d sworn she wouldn’t cry anymore. Too bad pain came on unexpectedly or she wouldn’t cry as much as she did.

If she planned on hurting, maybe things wouldn’t hurt as much. Or maybe, instead of keeping the house, she should pack up her things and drive off into the sunset in the old car.

Regardless… She’d have to choose soon. What she wouldn’t give to have someone tell her what to do.

Because, honestly? She had no idea what she was doing and what was the right choice.