Lassoing A Montana Heart

by Flightner, Ramona

  Davina tripped as she stared at a beautiful red-haired woman with hair falling loose, as she held a crying baby in her arms. Her rich cognac-colored eyes were filled with annoyance, although she attempted to hide it around a fleeting smile. “I can see ’tis a bad time. We canna stay.”

  “Oh, you’re family,” Jessamine said, as she heard Davina’s accent. “You’re very welcome. Aileana is fussy, and that makes me fussy.” She passed the crying infant to Ewan, and he cooed to his daughter, who continued to wail. However, soon she calmed and fell asleep in his arms.

  “I have the magic touch,” Ewan said with a smile, as he kissed the baby’s downy black hair.

  “Or she was exhausted and passed out,” Slims said with a teasing grin. “Nice to see you, ma’am.” He nodded his head deferentially to Jessamine and took off his hat.

  Jessamine gazed from Slims to Davina. “You look the worse for wear. Come. Have a cup of tea or coffee.”

  “Actually, ma’am, I plan on goin’ to the café and eatin’ everything they have on the menu,” Slims joked. “We haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

  Jessamine waved for them to follow her into the kitchen, where they were soon seated at the table. Jessamine poured them cups of coffee and cut up thick slabs of bread that she covered in butter. “Eat. Relax. And tell me what happened,” she said, as she leaned forward with a reporter’s avaricious gleam in her eyes.

  “Jessie,” Ewan said on a sigh. “Let ’em be.”

  “They’re the most interesting thing to occur in the past month, Ewan MacKinnon. I’m not about to let this latest story just pass me by.” She looked at Davina, who watched her with wide-eyed wonder. “I’m the reporter, and, although I might not always report what I hear, I long for stories. Please, tell me what happened to make you look like a pair of refugees.”

  “I feel like one in a borrowed dress,” Davina said, “although I shouldna complain. I’ve been most fortunate in the friendship offered me by Sorcha and Frederick.”

  “And Slims,” Ewan murmured with a wry quirk of his lips.

  Slims kicked Ewan under the table and answered Jessamine’s question. “We set out yesterday and were caught in the blizzard. We had to spend the night in one of the abandoned cabins a ways off the road.”

  “You could have frozen to death,” Jessamine said.

  “Aye we could have, but we had blankets we shared …” Davina broke off with a flush and looked into her coffee cup, as her fingers played with crumbs on the tabletop.

  “Shared?” Ewan asked with a roguish smile.

  “You know as well as anyone we had to share body heat,” Slims snapped. “Or you’d be looking for our carcasses today.”

  Jessamine fought a smile. “You know we’re teasing. And we’d never want for you to suffer such an untimely death. Especially not now,” she said cryptically, as she took a sip of her own coffee. “Tell me, Davina. How long do you plan to remain here in Bear Grass Springs?”

  Davina’s brows furrowed. “Long?” She cast a worried glance from Slims to Ewan. “I had hoped to settle here.”

  “Wonderful,” Jessamine murmured, as she ran a hand down her slumbering daughter’s back. She saw Slims watching her actions, and a contented smile bloomed. “We have a daughter, Slims,” she said in a low voice.

  “How?” he asked, flushing, as he blurted out the question. “I mean no disrespect, missus. I don’t remember you being with babe the last time I was in town.”

  Jessamine laughed. “Heavens, no.” She shared a loving look with her husband. “Ewan and I adopted little Aileana in December. She’s the daughter of Ezekial and Beth, a Boudoir Beauty.”

  Slims jaw dropped open. “You adopted a Beauty’s babe? Whyever for?”

  “Do ye no’ read Jessie’s paper?” Ewan asked. “She wrote an eloquent article about it afore Christmas.”

  Shrugging, Slims said, “I must have missed it.” After a moment, he asked, “Who’s Ezekial?”

  Ewan laughed. “Now ye’re provin’ just how good a man ye are. Ezekial was the doorman at the Boudoir. Kept out ruffians like me.”

  Slims stared at the couple in awe. “Remarkable.”

  “No reason a wee bairn should have to suffer for the folly of her parents,” Ewan said, as he kissed his daughter’s head. “An’ we longed for a child.” His reached his free hand out to Jessamine’s, squeezing her hand before raising it to his lips for a kiss.

  Davina swiped at her cheeks. “What’s the Boudoir?”

  “The bawdy house,” Jessamine said. When Davina continued to stare at her in confusion, Jessie said, “The brothel. The house of ill repute. The …”

  “Enough, woman. We all ken ye’re a walkin’ thesaurus,” Ewan said with exasperated fondness in his voice. “’Tis no’ a place I want a cousin of mine to frequent, aye?” When Davina nodded, Ewan rose. “I’ll lay her down for a wee rest. An’ I’ll show ye yer trunk.”

  A short time later, Davina knelt in front of the trunk she had packed with frantic haste as she clung to desperate hope that her life could be different with her cousin in Montana. She smiled as she saw the familiar dresses. Her fingers dug a little deeper, revealing the plaid in the MacDonald colors that had been her husband’s. She continued to search through the trunk, until she touched the packet of letters she had sequestered away. With a sigh of relief, she relaxed. They had not gone missing.

  “Is all well, lass?” Ewan asked. “I promise we did not root around in yer things.” He shrugged and looked only mildly chagrined. “Well, Jessie forbade me to, an’ I agreed. But it was no’ for a lack of interest.”

  She laughed. “Ye are incorrigible, are ye no’?” When he merely shrugged, she pulled out the packet of letters. “I was worried these had gone astray.”

  “Are they letters from someone ye loved?” he asked.

  “Aye,” she whispered, her gaze distant. “But no’ in the way ye mean. No’ from my husband.”

  Ewan stood up straight. “What do ye mean, gallivantin’ about the country with another man an’ spendin’ the night with him in a cabin if ye have a husband?”

  She gazed at him until he calmed. “My husband’s dead. I’m a widow.” She traced a finger over the writing on the envelopes. “Nae, these are letters between my aunt Mairi an’ yer da. An’ between our two das.” She held them to her chest, so Ewan couldn’t yank them from her hold. “I wanted proof of who I am.”

  Swallowing a few times, Ewan took a deep breath. “Ye have letters from Da? From my da?” At her nod, he whispered, “Could I see one?”

  She bent her head, riffling through the letters until she found the one she wanted. “Here.” She held the parchment out to him, watching as his hands shook as he gently gripped the fragile vellum. She watched as he slowly collapsed to his knees as his eyes raced over the words, his eyes filling with tears.

  “Oh, Da,” he whispered. “I wish I’d kent.”

  Davina stared at him with confusion.

  “I did no’ ken until a few years ago that Sorcha had a different mother. Which explained why my mother was always so cold and so cruel to her.” He rubbed at his face. “Ye’ll show this to Sorcha, aye? She still worries she is no’ loveable.”

  Davina goggled at him. “How can she doubt? She has Frederick an’ the bairns. An’ the ranch hands would do anythin’ for her.”

  Ewan rose and squeezed her shoulders. “Some hurts never fully heal, lass.”

  * * *

  Slims tapped on the door to the room Davina had disappeared into, hoping she was awake and wanting a visitor. “Davina,” he whispered.

  “Aye,” she said, creaking open the door. Her blond hair was tidily pulled back in a bun, and she wore a light-green dress that highlighted her subtle curves. She had tugged a shawl, made from a piece of tartan, over her shoulders, and he stood in awe of her.

  “You’ve never looked more beautiful,” he whispered. When she shook her head and looked down, he sighed. “Why will you not believe me when I speak the truth?” S
he did not raise her gaze, so he ceased pressing her for more than she was willing to offer. “Will you please come to the living room and talk with me, Davina?”

  Her head jerked up at him using her name. “Yes, Simon,” she whispered, sharing a private smile with him at the use of his first name.

  He fought a chuckle and motioned for her to follow him. When they arrived in the sitting room, he sat in one of the high-backed chairs while she sat on the settee. The fire crackled, and they sat in quiet companionship for a few moments. “Ewan believes we should spend the night at Cailean’s house, not the hotel. He said Cailean and Belle will be offended if we go to the hotel.” He looked around the fine house. “Ewan worries we will be disturbed by their comings and goings as they worry about Aileana.”

  “Their comin’ an’ goin’?” Davina asked in confusion.

  “It appears that Fidelia, Annabelle’s sister, who just had a child in the fall, is …” Slims waved his hand around, pointing to Davina’s chest and stammering out incomprehensible sounds.

  Davina sat in perplexed silence a moment before she blurted out, “Fidelia is breastfeedin’ the bairn?”

  “Yes,” Slims said with a relieved sigh. “Yes, she is. No one else was available or willing to feed a Beauty’s baby, and they knew she wouldn’t thrive on powders.”

  Davina sat in contemplative silence as she stared at the fire. “What sort of family is this?”

  Slims stiffened as he thought he detected a note of censure, rather than the true sense of wonder in her voice. “A family who looks out for each other,” he said, “as they’ve looked out for you.”

  She gazed at him, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.

  He froze, belatedly realizing he had misunderstood her. “Davina, there’s no reason to cry.”

  “You dinna understand,” she whispered. “For the majority of my life, I was raised to believe my aunt Mairi a horrible woman. A woman who had betrayed the sanctity of marriage and our family by lovin’ a married man. An’ that that man was the lowliest sort of man, whose family was never to be esteemed.” She shook her head as a tear coursed down her cheek. “An’ now I meet them, an’ I realize they have more honor, more loyalty, more love one for the other than I ever kent. An’ it breaks my heart.” She rose, running to the room where her trunk was, the door shutting with a thud behind her.

  “Dammit,” Slims breathed.

  Ewan emerged from the hallway and stared at Slims. “Whatever ye said did no’ please the lass,” he said with a wry smile, as he settled in front of the fire.

  Swearing under his breath, Slims stared at the man he knew a little from Ewan’s time visiting Sorcha, his sister, on the ranch. “Do we ever understand women?”

  Ewan chuckled and shook his head. “Nae, but ’tis fun tryin’ to.” He looked at Slims. “Thank ye for ensurin’ she was safe last night.”

  For a long moment, Slims was lost to the memory. To the sensation of holding Davina in his arms. “You have it backward, Ewan. She kept me safe. She ensured I didn’t freeze to death.” He let out a deep breath and shook his head, as though to clear it of memories. “Why are you and Jessamine living in Warren’s house?” He looked around the fine home, known in town to be the lawyer, Warren Clark’s, home. “I would have brought Davina to the wrong home to collect her trunk.”

  Ewan yawned and stretched before scratching at his head and sending his hair standing on end. “We swapped homes afore Christmas. Fidelia’s helpin’ us with Aileana, and we didn’t want to be separated from our bairn during the months when she needed frequent feedin’s.” He yawned again. “I dinna ken what we would have done without Fidelia.”

  Slims stared at the younger man, struggling against deep-seated envy. “You are a lucky man, Ewan.”

  At Slims’s whispered words, Ewan smiled. “Aye. I’ve a wife an’ daughter and family around me. I could want for nothin’ more.” He stared at Slims. “Ye are no’ alone either, Slims.” His smile was cryptic. “An’ I have a feelin’ you’ll be much less alone now than ye’ve ever been.”

  * * *

  Davina walked beside Slims, as Ewan led the way on the short stroll to his eldest brother’s house. Along the way, he jabbered about townsfolk, but she didn’t pay much attention, as she had no idea who he talked about, assuming the chatter was for Slims’s benefit, not hers. When they arrived at a large two-story house beside a livery with a paddock behind it, Ewan led them to a side entrance and ushered them into the kitchen.

  Davina pressed into Slims’s side, grateful she did not have to face this challenge alone. A tall man, his muscles rippling under his shirt, paced in the kitchen, although he was nowhere near as tall as Slims. An attractive black-haired woman of middling height sat at the table with a beautiful child on her lap. Unable to break her gaze from the child chattering away at her mother, Davina jerked when the man cleared his throat.

  “So, you claim to be our cousin,” the man said, his piercing eyes gleaming with mistrust.

  She stiffened and forced herself to take a step away from Slims, although she remained near enough to reach out to touch his hand. “Aye, although ye are no’ my cousin. No’ by blood. I’m Davina MacQueen. Yer sister is my cousin.”

  The man made a waving motion and shrugged. “If you’re related to one MacKinnon, you’re related to us all. We tend to be greedy when it comes to family. At least the Montana MacKinnons are.” He studied her. “You’re small, like Sorcha. And, from what Ewan told me, you’re feisty like her too.”

  Davina raised her chin, as though daring him to disparage her.

  “Who was your aunt?” the man asked. “What was she like?”

  Davina let out a stuttering breath, the defiance leaving her. “Mairi?” she whispered. “Mairi was sweet an’ kind an’ good. She sang while she wove her cloth. An’ she always had time to tell me a story or to teach me a song. She never thought I was a bother. An’ she was never disappointed I was a girl.” She ducked her head, as though embarrassed at having revealed too much.

  “Aye, that sounds like Mairi.” He smiled at her. “I met her a few times. I’m sorry I didn’t know her better. But I believe we see all the goodness of Mairi in our wee Sorcha.” He paused as he met her stunned gaze. “I’m Cailean, the eldest MacKinnon, an’ I couldn’t be happier you’ve come to find us, Davina.” He tugged her into his arms, swallowing her squeak of surprise as he swung her around once and then set her on her feet again beside Slims. He beamed at Ewan. “We have another cousin.”

  Ewan smiled broadly. “Aye, we do, Cail.”

  “Annabelle’s my wife, and Skye’s our daughter,” Cailean said with a proud smile.

  “Skye,” Davina whispered.

  “Aye,” he said, as he stared at his wife and daughter with delight. “She’s our pride and joy.”

  “Why do ye no’ talk like a Scot?” Davina blurted out.

  Cailean laughed, pulling her close for a one-armed hug. “I worked hard to lose the accent when I arrived in America. I found I was treated better if I didn’t sound like I was from a foreign land.”

  Ewan chuckled. “If ye make him angry, he’ll sound like us.” When she giggled, he winked at her.

  Annabelle rose after Skye squirmed to be set on the ground. “I’m so glad we’re finally meeting you,” she said, as she pulled Davina close in a hug. “We’ll have a family dinner tonight, and you can meet everyone.” She shrugged. “Perhaps not everyone, but the majority of our family and those we consider family.”

  “I dinna wish to be a bother,” Davina protested.

  Annabelle shook her head. “Family is never a bother, Davina. We’re delighted you’re here.” She saw Davina tracking Skye’s movements with a wistful look in her gaze. “Would you like to hold her?”

  “Oh, I wouldna presume …” She broke off any protestations when Cailean hefted his daughter up and thrust Skye in Davina’s arms. A smile burst forth as the girl beamed at her. “Hello. I’m your cousin Davina.”

  “Auntie,” Skye murm
ured, as she sighed with contentment.

  Davina stared in wonder at Annabelle and Cailean. “I’d think she’d be afraid of me.”

  Annabelle shrugged. “She goes through moments where she only wants me or Cailean. And then there are days, like today, when she wants to be held by anyone and everyone.” She ran a hand down her daughter’s back, laughing as her daughter giggled, as though being tickled.

  When Skye began to squirm, Davina crouched and let her stand. Soon Skye had raced away to peer up at her uncle Ewan. When Davina noticed Annabelle watching her with an inquisitive look, she pasted on an impersonal smile. “Ye have a beautiful daughter.”

  “Aye,” Annabelle murmured. “Thank you.”

  * * *

  Davina sat at the crowded table, listening as the MacKinnons and those they considered family chattered around her. Slims sat to her right, and she gave thanks for his silent support. On her other side was a man named Bears, and he seemed content to watch the siblings laugh and tell stories, only imparting morsels of wisdom as needed. On the other side of Bears, the second-eldest MacKinnon brother, Alistair, sat beside his wife, Leticia. Continuing around the table, their eldest daughter, Hortence, whispered and giggled with Fidelia and Bears’s daughter, Mildred. Ewan and Jessamine shared duties of caring for young Aileana, while another couple sat beside them. Fidelia sat between the unknown woman and Fidelia’s sister, Annabelle, with Cailean next to Slims. Skye, Catriona, and Angus alternated between their parents’ laps and playing on the floor.

  “Ye have a beautiful son,” Davina murmured to Bears in a lull in the conversation.

  Bears nodded, his gaze moving to his wife, Fidelia, and their four-month-old son, with his chubby legs and cheeks, sitting on his mother’s lap, smiling cheerfully at all those gathered. “He’s a happy boy,” he murmured. “My daughter, Bright Fawn, dotes on him, as do we all.” He nodded to a girl at the table—who looked like him, with dark hair and deep brown eyes—who Davina had also heard called Mildred. Slims had warned her that Bears had more than one name for most people.