Mystic Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series Book 6)

by Debra Holland

  Especially if I have the company of a fine woman like Maggie. Without thinking, Caleb reached out and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

  Maggie’s lips parted in a sigh.

  His gaze lingered on her mouth, wide and sweet. A sudden hunger to kiss her made him draw Maggie close. He pressed his mouth against hers, softly, a gentle caress, not a searing kiss, for he didn’t want to frighten her away.

  Her hand on his arm tightened.

  Caleb ran his tongue smoothly over her lips until she opened to him, making a small sound. He wanted to plunge his tongue into her mouth and deepen the kiss, to pull her against him and slide his hands over her curves, but he knew that brute of a husband had hurt her. This was only supposed to be a light flirtation, so he held back and waited for her to lead.

  Maggie pulled back a few inches. Her eyes fluttered open, dark and luminous, the gold flecks sparkling in the sun. She swallowed and moistened her lips. She studied his face. Her generous mouth trembled, and then her lips turned up. “Why did you kiss me?”

  “Because I enjoyed your enjoyment in our drive today. I know how seldom pleasures come your way, and I was glad to give you the experience. Because I lack appreciation of my blessings. . . .” Because you are mine.

  Caleb didn’t want to delve deeper inside himself to find his true feelings, so he resorted to some light banter. He touched the tip of her nose with one finger. “This is the month of May. A man is supposed to steal kisses in May.”

  Maggie’s marriage had taught her well how to conceal her real feelings. Now, she tried to draw the familiar cloak of stoicism around her—to hide her response to what Caleb blithely called stolen kisses, which to her had felt like so much more. Somehow, she had to suppress the bubbling awareness of her physical response—that pure blissful moment in his arms, the tingles in her body, the sensations he’d created with his mouth and tongue and hands. I didn’t know kissing could feel like this.

  Caleb held out an arm and lifted his chin toward the house. “Let’s go see how Charlotte is faring with Samantha.”

  Nodding, she took his arm. Maggie’s body was still edgy, aching for more of Caleb’s touch. She couldn’t yet speak.

  He escorted her up the walkway toward the house, from time to time glancing downward, apparently to see if she was all right.

  Maggie had as much as she could do to manage a gliding stride next to him that indicated everything was normal.

  They entered the side door of the glass-paneled solarium, filled with wicker furniture and potted plants. White wooden lattice panels in a filigree pattern ran along the top of the glass. A bronze-and-glass chandelier hung from the middle of a peaked glass roof.

  Normally, Maggie would have stopped to stare at such a beautiful room. Instead, she moved with him across the brick floor to the inner door of the house.

  Hearing female voices from the parlor, she let go of his arm and came into the room. Edith and Samantha sat on the settee, a tray on the butler’s table in front of them laden with a plate of cookies and one of small sandwiches. The delicate aroma of China tea wafted into the air.

  Even after two weeks of living here, drinking tea was still a luxury for Maggie. But now she focused on Charlotte in Edith’s arms and moved toward her, assessing the baby’s well-being.

  Charlotte seemed fine. Her eyes were wide, arms waving.

  Baby Patricia sat on Samantha’s lap, gnawing a crust. Both looked at Maggie and smiled. Without being bundled up in their outdoor garments, the resemblance between mother and daughter was astonishing—especially the red hair and sky-blue eyes.

  Edith welcomed them before looking down at Charlotte. “And here’s your mama, sweet girl.” She lifted the baby to Maggie.

  “Thank you both for taking care of her.” Maggie took her daughter into her arms, feeling as if her tilted world had just righted. She dropped a kiss on the downy head and inhaled Charlotte’s baby smell before turning to Samantha. “Your Falabellas are delightful. We’ve had the most marvelous outing. I can’t thank you enough.” Determined to pretend nothing had just happened between them, she cast a grateful glance at Caleb. “Thank you both.”

  Samantha gave Maggie a knowing smile. “Yes, my little ones are delightful. Almost magical at times, I think.”

  Caleb placed a hand on Maggie’s back, guiding her toward a blue wingchair. “Let me bring you some tea.” He walked to his sister and watched her pick up the teapot and fill a cup.

  “Would you like sandwiches or cookies?” Edith asked Maggie.

  She shook her head. “I’m fine, thank you. I enjoyed some of Mrs. Graves’s soup a while ago.”

  Edith handed the cup and saucer to her brother, who set it down on a small table beside Maggie.

  Caleb accepted a cup for himself and took a seat across from her in the other blue wingchair. “We learned some interesting news.” He glanced at Maggie, eyebrows pulling together. “Although, I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be a surprise.”

  Maggie thought of Sophia’s dramatic entrance—one that any person in the lobby would notice. “I think not.”

  Caleb took a sip of tea, apparently prolonging the suspense. “Sophia Maxwell and Blythe Robbins are visiting for a week and are to perform at the wedding.”

  Maggie watched Caleb’s face light up as he spoke. Once again, she wondered about his feelings for the Songbird of Chicago. Was that the reason he kissed me? Was he thinking of her?

  “The other news is, Peter and Blythe have set a wedding date for June.”

  Both women exclaimed in pleasure.

  “Well—” Samantha leaned over and picked up a tiny coat “—I’d best be going before my husband sends the cavalry out after me.” She slid Patricia’s arm into the sleeve.

  Caleb rose. “I’ll ask Jed to bring the Falabellas around.”

  Edith stood and picked up the plate of cookies. “I’ll have Mrs. Graves pack these so you can take them with you for the children.”

  “You’re very kind,” Samantha murmured.

  By unspoken agreement, they waited until the sound of both pairs of footsteps died away.

  Samantha leaned close. “I declare, Maggie Baxter, you must be a witch. I was shocked when my children came home the other day and told me Ben Grayson had actually apologized to Daniel and the others for how he’d treated them.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she smoothed her daughter’s hair. “Daniel was bouncing with joy. Well,” she amended, “Daniel is always bouncing. But that conversation was obviously healing for his spirits.”

  “Caleb told me the story about what Ben did to your sons,” Maggie murmured.

  “So I hastened here to meet you, for I couldn’t imagine what else caused Ben to make the peace overture. The recipe from Mrs. Graves was only an excuse for me to call.”

  The women exchanged knowing glances about the grumpy housekeeper.

  “Then I see that you’ve bespelled those two, as well.” Samantha waved a hand toward the door. “I’ve never seen them act so pleasant—in a genuine way.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “To be frank, they aren’t the warmest people. Yet, to my surprise, I’ve actually enjoyed my visit today. I’ve never seen Edith be so hospitable, nor Caleb so. . .so. . . .” Samantha shook her head. “I can’t even find the right word. He’s usually so bankerish.”

  Maggie laughed. “That’s all Charlotte’s doing. She’s captivated everyone.”

  Samantha laughed. “Well, I can understand that. My Pattycakes has won the heart of everyone on the ranch, even the most curmudgeonly cowboys. And her sister and brothers adore her. The way this baby is carried around, she might never learn to walk. She’ll go straight from humans to a pony.”

  Maggie chuckled but couldn’t help a pang that Charlotte wouldn’t have a similar experience with a big family’s love.

  But I will love her so deeply and fiercely she will never know the lack.

  Even as she thought the words, Maggie knew their untruth. She’d been
loved, yet she had still wished for a bigger family, especially after her father died, followed by his parents and her mother, and finally her grandmother. If I had sisters and brothers, my daughter and I wouldn’t be alone. “You are so blessed to have a large family.”

  “And so I tell myself every day. And I give thanks to the Lord for my good fortune.” Samantha pulled the knit cap over the baby’s head. “But. . .a family is not just people who are bound by blood or marriage, although that is the most common. Families can also be made. I have three adopted sons and a stepdaughter whom I love as dearly as the two I gave birth to. And the children love one another and squabble and play together just the same as any siblings.”

  Yet to create such a family also takes money. Maggie knew she’d struggle to provide for the one chick she had and had no financial means to adopt more.

  Samantha glanced at the door and back toward Maggie, lowering her voice. “I will say, I think the softening in this family is from more than just Charlotte’s influence. Both of you have played a part of the mellowing of Caleb, Edith, and Ben.” With a final mischievous glance at Maggie, she finished dressing her daughter and stood. “I’ll see you at the wedding. I’d say we’ll probably have a chance to talk then, but I’m sure the event will be a madhouse, and we’ll be lucky to have even a few words.”

  Caleb returned, carrying Samantha’s outerwear and satchel, the scarf, and knotted baby sling draped over one arm. “The buggy awaits.” He set the satchel on the floor and offered Samantha the coat. “Shall we trade?”

  Samantha gave Maggie a sidelong glance that clearly said, see, I told you he’s changed. She handed over her daughter and accepted the coat in exchange.

  Maggie rocked Charlotte, suppressing a chuckle at Samantha’s reaction to Caleb’s assistance with Patricia. But she also had difficulty in seeing Caleb as any way but warm, generous, and good with baby girls.

  As if to prove her point, the man deftly took Patricia into his arms.

  The baby stared at him, her eyes wide. Then her face puckered.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Caleb teased, bouncing her and speaking in a gentle voice. “My reputation is at stake.”

  The baby’s eyes widened, and her face cleared, but she didn’t go so far as to break into a smile. She turned her head toward her mother and held out a hand.

  Samantha, already in her coat and knitted hat, lifted the scarf and baby carrier from around Caleb’s arm. She wrapped the scarf around her neck, looped the knotted sheet over her head and one shoulder, and pulled mittens from her coat pocket, tugging them onto her hands. “I’ll take her back, if you’ll haul my satchel outside.”

  Caleb made the exchange.

  Samantha leaned over and gave Maggie a kiss on the cheek. “You two stay here, where it’s warm,” she ordered. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Good-bye.” Impulsively, Maggie laid a hand on Samantha’s arm. “Thank you again for everything.”

  With a smile, the woman left.

  Maggie sank back into her chair, envying Samantha her happy marriage and her big family. She kissed the top of Charlotte’s head, suddenly feeling tired. She shifted and her hip panged, indicating she’d probably done too much today. She leaned her head back, replaying Caleb’s kiss. So soft, and yet. . .there was male need there, too. She tried to yank away her thoughts. No sense in wishing the kiss meant as much to him as it did to me, she lamented. That way only leads to hurt.

  Edith entered the room, followed by Caleb. A smile played about her lips. “Maggie, we have something to show you. A surprise. Let’s go up to your bedroom.”

  “Here, let me.” Caleb reached for her daughter. “I haven’t had my time with her yet.”

  Maggie placed Charlotte in his arms.

  With a fatuous smile, Caleb bent over the baby. “Hello, my sweet.”

  Charlotte shook her arms and kicked her legs, obviously happy to see him.

  Maggie’s heart turned over.

  “Come along, you two,” Edith ordered. “I want Maggie to see her surprise before the light starts to fade.”

  Maggie obediently followed the other woman out of the parlor and up the stairs. She paused at the half landing, leaning over the rail to look down at Caleb and her daughter.

  As Caleb walked with the baby, he appeared to be having a low-voiced conversation with her.

  Charlotte looked fully engrossed in gazing at his face.

  With a smile, Maggie shook her head and picked up her skirts. But she couldn’t help a stab of worry at how the baby had become attached to Caleb. Surely Charlotte’s too young to miss him when we leave.

  She continued upstairs and into the bedroom to see two dresses spread over the bed—one a grape purple so dark it was almost black, and the other a lovely red. She gasped and immediately coveted both of them.

  Caleb came in behind her. He shifted Charlotte to one arm and touched the purple dress. “They are for you, Maggie. What do you think?”

  The dark purple gown had a black velvet collar, cuffs, and a V belt with black lace over the bodice and around the hem. Three tiers of frills cascaded from the shoulders, a much softer look than balloon sleeves. “I couldn’t accept such a generous gift.”

  He fiddled with the cuff of the sleeve and barreled on, as if she hadn’t objected. “I know the color is not deep mourning, and if this were Boston, of course, you’d wear black—if you attended the wedding at all. But here we aren’t so strict.”

  I’d wear yellow in celebration if I didn’t care what people thought. But I do have Charlotte to consider.

  “Some of us adhere to proper ways,” Edith said in frigid tones, her facial expression tight, back and shoulders straight.

  Oh, dear, Edith is in need of Charlotte’s magic again. Maybe I should have Caleb give the baby back to her.

  “Yes, sister,” Caleb said in a placating tone. “I know when Nathaniel died you wore black for longer than a year. But you did start wearing colors when you and Ben moved out here.”

  His comment apparently mollified Edith, for her whole body softened. She sent an apologetic glance in Maggie’s direction. “I know your marriage was different than mine with my dearest Nathaniel, and I agree with my brother’s assessment of the situation.”

  A lump formed in Maggie’s throat. As each day had passed since Oswald’s death, and she’d been treated with consideration and care by the people of Sweetwater Springs—especially these two—she’d realized more and more how much her husband had mistreated her.

  Caleb brushed a hand over the skirt of the red dress. “This one is for later, after a few months go by. When I saw the fashion plate, I knew the color would suit you, and I ordered it.”

  The crimson hue attracted her. The sleeves were full at the shoulders, but they didn’t have fat puffs. The high-necked red bodice had an overdress of wide lapels with broad black lace. The cuffs and collar were trimmed in black braid. A line of wide black braid ran from each hip to the hem. A second row dripped with black lacy fringe that made a V from the knees to meet in the middle near the hem. In between, a fan shape of black appliqués ended in a point at the bottom of the V.

  Caleb gave her a look of boyish expectation as different from a blasé expression as could be. “Will you try on this one, Maggie? Just so we can see you in it?”

  She could no more resist that appeal than she could ignore one of Charlotte’s needs. She glanced at Edith, silently asking the other woman’s opinion. After all, she’d been the one who’d seemed to disapprove of the presents he’d purchased on the day they’d arrived.

  Edith smiled and made a little shooing motion at her brother. “Out with you. I’ll play ladies maid for Maggie.”

  Caleb didn’t move, only watched Maggie, his dark eyes hooded, as if brooding.

  Her throat tight, she could only nod, and then quickly she looked away.

  He rubbed a hand on Charlotte’s back and left.

  Once the door closed behind him and the baby, Edith gestured for her to remove her c
lothing.

  Maggie did as commanded, feeling self-conscious about standing in front of the other woman in only her undergarments.

  “Let me tie your corset strings tighter.” Edith reached for Maggie’s waist but paused halfway, awaiting permission.

  “Go ahead.”

  Edith unlaced the ties. “Breathe in; then breathe out.” She waited for Maggie’s exhale and yanked on the strings.

  The whalebones of the stays cut into her sides.

  “Your waist has gone down a bit,” Edith observed. “And the rest of you is filling out nicely.”

  “Mrs. Graves’s good cooking,” she said lightly. Abundant food will do that. Too often, Maggie had stinted on her portions, because there wasn’t enough for her and Oswald to both eat well.

  Once pregnant, though, she hadn’t been quite as generous, knowing her body needed nourishment for the baby growing within her. Still, she’d worried that she hadn’t eaten enough, that the baby would suffer for the lack of food during the pregnancy, and afterward when she nursed. The lavish meals Maggie had partaken of while she’d been living as a member of Caleb’s household had been a godsend. She’d felt tremendous relief that Charlotte benefited in these first vulnerable weeks and refused to worry about how she would provide sustenance for her daughter in the future.

  Worry after the wedding. The few times she’d hinted to Caleb about needing to move out, he’d changed the subject or had told her she first needed to heal or be stronger. Maggie had given herself a cut-off date for remaining at the Livingston mansion.

  I’m healed. I’m strong. Somehow, the thought didn’t bring the relief it should have.

  Edith helped her slip on the red dress and work the fastenings.

  Maggie felt like a mannequin, or maybe a little girl playing dress-up. No, playing dress-up was fun. This is awkward. If I refuse the gorgeous dresses as my pride wants to do, I will hurt Caleb, as well as possibly insulting Edith. She couldn’t do that to the two people who’d already done so much for her.

  Edith stepped back. “Oh, my. I never would have believed the transformation if I hadn’t seen it for myself.” She turned Maggie around so she could stand in front of a full-length looking glass.