He held her close, breathing in her subtle scent. “I needed this as much as you did.”
“Perhaps,” she whispered, looking up to meet his gaze, tears glistening in her eyes. “But ye listened and paid attention. Ye did no’ reject my fascination with horses as a folly, an’ I thank ye.”
“Folly?” he asked with a shake of his head. “If given the chance, I suspect you could be a partner to Frederick.” He held her head, refusing to allow her to duck away out of embarrassment or modesty. “You are bright, Dav, and passionate. I hate to think you’d toil away in a kitchen when your true love was in a stable.”
She bit her lip and smiled at him. “Aye, my true love is in a stable.”
His adoring gaze met hers, as he squeezed her waist. “You know what I meant.”
Nodding, she whispered, “Aye. But I dinna ken anything about horses. I like them. I’ve always wanted to be around them, but I dinna ken anything useful.”
“I know you, Dav, and I know you can learn. I know you can do whatever you want.”
Staring at him with trepidation in her gaze, she asked in a low voice, “An’ ye would no’ resent the time I spent focused on horses?”
“Resent?” he whispered. “Hell no.” He flushed after swearing. “If it makes you happy, Dav, it will make me happy. It’s as simple as that.”
“Oh, Simon,” she breathed, pressing into his chest. “How I love you.”
* * *
In late April, Davina stood at the paddock fence, watching as Slims and the men prepared for the spring roundup. She watched as Slims organized the men and the supplies they would need for the branding, although her gaze darted to Dalton, who seemed to hover near Charlotte. Whenever Charlotte needed help stocking the improvised chuck wagon, Dalton appeared at her elbow, eager to help. Davina hoped she remembered to speak with Slims about any potential relationship between Dalton and the woman she still didn’t fully trust.
Although Charlotte had emerged from her sickroom and had insisted on working as a cook for the men in the bunkhouse, a miasma of despair clung to her. She had refused every overture of friendship from Davina and Sorcha. Davina suspected Charlotte had attempted to repulse any aid from Dalton too. However, Dalton appeared undeterred in his desire to help Charlotte and to keep any of the new ranch hands at bay. Although Davina wanted Dalton to find love, she feared Charlotte would only bring him more heartbreak.
Slims had spoken with Frederick about Davina helping with the horses, and Frederick was eager for her to learn as much as possible. She now had a stack of books in the cabin to read during her free time, to study, and to learn all she could about horses. She had also discovered that Slims had sent away for more books for her, but she wouldn’t ruin his surprise when they arrived. After the roundup, he had also arranged for them to be away from the ranch for a few days, so she could spend time with Bears at the livery. With a contented sigh, she stared at the man who ensured her dreams came true, her heart overflowing with love for him.
Davina smiled at Irene, who had insisted she and Harold close the café to join in on the roundup, and Davina stood in quiet companionship with the older woman for a few moments. A robin trilled; a gentle breeze blew, and the promise of a successful roundup was in the air.
“Are you well, my girl?” Irene asked as she wrapped an arm around Davina’s shoulders.
“Yes, missus, verra well,” she whispered. “Although I hate no’ bein’ useful.”
Irene laughed. “Don’t worry. If the roundup goes well, the men will throw an impromptu hoe down, and you’ll dance so much that you’ll think your legs will fall off.”
Davina paled at the prospect, leaning into Irene’s side. “I’m no’ one for dancin’.”
“Tell that to your husband,” Irene suggested with a chuckle, as she watched Slims lead the men. “He’ll ensure you only do what you want. And I’d suggest you sing as a way to compensate for disappointing the men.”
Davina nodded. “Thank ye, Irene. Ye are always so kind to me.”
Irene pivoted slightly, so she could look at Davina. “And why shouldn’t I be?” When Davina stared at her wide-eyed, Irene smiled at her with a loving look in her gaze. “All will be well, Davina. Slims is a good man.”
Davina raised her eyebrows, her eyes widening. “I ken he is, Irene. I love him.”
Grinning with satisfaction, Irene pulled her close. “Oh, my dear girl, I’m so glad. You have no idea how long I’ve hoped and prayed for a woman just like you to come into his life. He’s needed you for so long.”
Davina sniffled, fighting tears. “Aye, I ken. Just as I’ve needed him.”
“Did you know that,” Irene asked, “when I first met Slims, I feared he would never trust anyone again?” She nodded when Davina gaped at her in wide-eyed wonder. “I feared he would always look upon everything Harold, the boys, or I did with suspicion. Only with time, and constancy, did he come to realize we were good, honest people.”
“Thank ye for carin’ for him when he lost everythin’,” Davina whispered.
Irene leaned forward and spoke in a low voice, as though imparting a secret. “As I’m sure you discovered, he wasn’t hard to love.”
Davina let out a stuttering breath, her gaze unerringly finding her husband, patiently talking to one of the new hands. “Nae. He’s far too easy to love.”
“Come,” Irene said, slipping her arm through Davina’s and leading her toward the big house. “Let’s find Sorcha and talk about what we’ll bring with us. Tomorrow will come soon enough, with us trundling along in a rickety wagon. Be thankful we won’t have far to go.”
Davina listened with rapt interest as Irene regaled her with tales of the long wagon journey from Fort Benton when they had first moved to the valley of Bear Grass Springs, any concerns for tomorrow momentarily forgotten.
* * *
After a successful first day, fiddles emerged, feet stomped, and men sang. Sorcha danced with the men, while Frederick watched, with baby Harold in his arms. Slims stood beside him, with Mairi asleep against his shoulder, and Davina stared at her husband in wonder as he appeared perfectly at ease to hold the child and to carry on a conversation at the same time.
Shorty stepped up to her and offered his hand. “Oh, Shorty,” she whispered as she flushed. “I’m no’ dancin’ tonight.”
“Is it because you’re savin’ all your dances for your husband?” Shorty asked with a teasing smile.
“Nae,” Davina said, as she shook her head at other men who approached. “I’m no’ dancing with anyone.”
Shorty followed her gaze and smiled at the sight of his boss and his best friend holding the two children. “They make a picture, don’t they? Only thing better would be if Slims had his own child. I know he’s given up the notion of havin’ children, but he’d make a good pa. But he claims he’s content playin’ uncle.”
Her breath caught at Shorty’s words, and she was thankful the loud music and singing drowned out the need for her to reply.
“I mean no offense, missus,” Shorty said, as he realized he could have inadvertently offended her.
She shook her head and forced a smile, watching as Slims handed Mairi to Sorcha, who took a break from the dancing. Shorty doffed his hat and slipped into the group of men.
After a few moments, Slims saw her and approached with a wide grin. He held out his hand to grab hers, so as to lead her onto the makeshift dance floor. She pulled at his hand, digging in her heels. “Nae, Slims, nae,” she breathed. “I canna. I willna.”
Stilling at the terror and fear in her gaze, he took a step closer, acting as a buffer from the high-strung men and the music. “Dav? What’s the matter?”
She bit her lip and grabbed his hand, dragging him away from the small celebration, their way lit by the full moon. “I didna want to tell ye. I thought to wait to make sure.” Her shoulders slumped. “I wish I could avoid the pain altogether.”
Slims stilled her frantic march across the prairie, his worried gaze
meeting her panicked one. “What in God’s name is goin’ on, Dav?” he demanded.
She trembled, her eyes filling with tears. “I didna think it would happen,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“What?” he asked, giving her a little shake. “Are you ill? Am I going to lose you?”
“Nae,” she gasped out. “I’m with child.” Tears coursed down her cheeks after she blurted out her news.
Slims stood stock-still for a few moments, the wind whispering around them and the howl of a distant wolf preventing him from thinking he was dreaming. “With my child?”
She hit him on his chest. “Of course ’tis yours.” She shook her head in disgust. “As if I ever wanted another man to touch me.” She stomped her foot in her agitation and then gasped out, “Oof,” as Slims yanked her against him.
“Oh, my darling,” he whispered, as an awed smile bloomed. “I never dared dream or hope this would occur. I’ve loved you enough times that I knew it was possible, but …” He broke off, his hand shaking, as it caressed her head. “Are you well? Do you need anything?”
She pushed forward, into his embrace. “I need to know my bairn willna die this time,” she whispered against his chest. She took a deep breath, as though marshaling all her courage. “I need to ken ye willna see me as a failure if my bairn dies. That ye will no’ take your love away because I failed again.”
His eyes gleamed with a fierce intensity, filled with love and devotion. “Never, Dav. I am not the spineless idiot you first married. I love you. I will love you forever. With no children. Or with ten.” He smiled at her tenderly. “Don’t doubt me.” His pleading-filled voice provoked a shiver.
“I try no’ to,” she said, “but ’tis hard not to worry about what will come, when the past reminds me of all the heartache I already suffered.”
He brushed away a tear and murmured, “And it’s our bairn, my love.”
She smiled at him, her eyes filled with joy at his words and his devotion.
“Why wouldn’t you dance?” he asked.
“What if the jumpin’ around caused harm to the bairn? What if I did somethin’ to cause it to be born weak?” she whispered.
“Oh, Dav,” he groaned, hauling her into his arms. “We’ll go to town. Talk with Helen. Have her answer all your questions and reassure you as best she can. And I’ll hold you, whenever you need comforting. I’ll never tire of showing you how much I treasure you.” His hand dropped to her waist, and his voice shook. “Or the child you shelter.” He dropped his head down, until he rested his forehead against hers. “Thank you, Dav,” he whispered.
“For what?”
“For facing your worst fear,” he said around his tears. “For facing them so that I might have my deepest dream.”
She bit her lip, and he traced her lip with his thumb, preventing her from saying anything more.
“You are not a failure. You will never be a disappointment. You are a woman, my woman, doing her best, and I could never ask for more.” He kissed her reverently, as he placed a hand on her belly. “You’ve given me everything I ever dreamed of and so much more. I’ll prove your every dream true,” he murmured, pulling her close. “I promise.”
She shuddered, holding him close. “Ye already have, my Simon. Ye already have.”
Epilogue
Mountain Bluebird Ranch, 1896
Davina held a hand up to her forehead, as she stared over the prairie, the early evening light casting a warm glow on all she beheld. Prairie grass rose tall, swaying in the gentle breeze, as the mountains in the distance took on a purplish hue. Her breath caught as a shriek carried on the wind, but, with a mother’s instinct, she knew it was a shriek of joy rather than a call for help.
Slims continued to work as foreman at the ranch, while Davina split her time between caring for her children and working with Frederick’s horses. Slims never begrudged her time doing the work she loved, and her children loved every moment they spent with their cousins while she was busy away from their home.
With a contented sigh, she leaned back into her husband’s strong chest as he wrapped his arms around her middle, tugging her close. “How are you, my darlin’?” he murmured into her neck, kissing her softly.
“Happier than I ever thought I could be,” she whispered, turning abruptly to bury her face against his chest.
“Shh, love,” he murmured. “What’s this?” He rubbed a hand up and down her back as she cried softly against him. “Have our blessed demons driven you mad today?”
Chuckling, Davina rested her cheek against his strong muscles, her hands now tracing patterns on his back, rather than clinging to him. “No. Today was another miracle. We played and painted. I began to teach wee Elise how to knit and Jasper to read while we worked. Then it was time to romp around outside, and they’ve been having fun for hours.”
Slims kissed her head, his gaze lighting on his children, running and laughing in the distance. “Why the tears, my love?”
“They’re so healthy,” she whispered. “I stare at them and can’t believe they are mine. Ours.” She raised her face so her gaze met his. “I feel as though my heart will overflow.”
His expression softened, as he stared deeply into her beautiful brown eyes. “Ah, lass, now you know how I’ve felt every moment since I met you.” He kissed her softly. “And the wonder is, we have so many more yet to come.”
* * *
Never fear! The Bear Grass Springs adventures continue. Healing Montana Love available in September 2020!
Sneak Peek at Healing Montana Love!
Mountain Bluebird Ranch, Montana Territory, May, 1889
Charlotte Ingram stood on the bunkhouse stoop at the Mountain Bluebird Ranch near the town of Bear Grass Springs, Montana. A meadowlark warbled and she gave thanks the breeze blew in the opposite direction today, sending the barn’s stench away from the bunkhouse. Although she understood she should be thankful for the pungent odors, as it meant there was milk and butter and food to eat, she had yet to become accustomed to ranch life.
Although she had been on the ranch since February, the months seemed to crawl by. First because she was in a miasma of pain and despair. Now, because everyday consisted of a monotony of similar chores. She took a deep breath of the fresh air, closing her eyes with delight as she scented the faint hint of lilac on the breeze. Finally, spring was arriving. Wisps of reddish blond hair tickled her cheeks as they fluttered in the faint breeze, having escaped the braid down her back. Her sensible faded blue calico dress flapped at her ankles and she tugged her serviceable shawl around her shoulders.
With a sigh, she returned to the kitchen to prepare another meal for the men. Although they were courteous, few were overtly flirtatious and none crossed the line into impropriety. The men knew they would be fired and forced to find work on another less prosperous ranch if they harassed her. Saying a silent prayer of thanksgiving for men like Frederick Tompkins and his foreman, Slims, for ensuring she was respected, she hummed while she worked.
Soon, Charlotte was lost to her work, focusing on preparing a large apple crumble from the last of the previous year’s crop while bread baked in the oven and stew bubbled on the stove. With a shriek, she spun and held a knife out as someone tapped her arm. “Stay away,” she gasped.
Dalton held his hands up, his blue eyes rounded with surprise as he barely backed away in time to prevent a stabbing. The sound of his shirt tearing filled the otherwise silent room. “Miss Ingram,” he murmured in a low voice. “I didn’t mean to startle you. You were woolgathering.” He shrugged as he took another step backward, his alert gaze on her as her arm quivered. “Why don’t you put the knife down? No one will harm you here.” He stood half a foot taller than her with long arms and could easily have manhandled the knife away from her. However, he did not attempt to touch her again.
In an instant, Charlotte flushed beet red and spun to face away from him. The muffled sound of her stifling a sob carried and he took a hesitant step in her direction.
However, he couldn’t see the knife and he had no desire for her aim to prove more accurate this time. “Miss Ingram?”
“Forgive me,” she gasped out, her sherry-colored eyes filled with humiliation as she looked at him over her shoulder. “I was foolish. If you leave me your shirt, I’ll mend it.” She bowed her head as she fought to control her quivering. The knife clattered to the countertop beside the stove.
He took a few ponderous steps, pulling out a chair with a loud scrape as though to indicate he were a fair distance away from her. “I wondered if there was any coffee left in the pot.”
A hysterical laugh burst forth and she slammed her hand over her mouth to prevent any further inappropriate sounds from emerging. However, she knew she was on the verge of giving in to her fears, of never feeling secure, and she could not prevent the hot scald of tears as they poured down her cheeks.
“Miss?” He murmured, suddenly standing behind her again. At the soft touch to her shoulder, she flinched and then relaxed. “Miss, you’re safe here. You know the men are loyal to you.”
She refused to turn and face him. In a stuttering voice, she rasped, “No, they’re loyal to the Missus. The two Missus. They tolerate me. And give me a wide berth because they don’t want to lose their jobs.” She took a long breath, finally corralling her out of control emotions. Reaching a shaking hand out, she grasped a coffee cup and filled it. “I believe you like it black.”
She turned to hand it to him, refusing to meet his gaze.
“Look at me,” he whispered. When she kept her eyes downcast, he murmured, “Please.”
At the entreaty, her gaze flew to his and she frowned in confusion. Men gave her orders. They didn’t make polite requests she could refuse. She met his worried gaze, his blue eyes with wrinkles at the corners as he focused all of his attention on her. His brown hair was scrunched down like he’d just taken his hat off, and she fought an irrational urge to run her hands through it.
Lassoing A Montana Heart Page 19