Mystic Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series Book 6)

by Debra Holland

  Maggie couldn’t breathe. “What are you saying, Caleb?” The question squeaked out.

  “If you think I’m saying I love you, you’d be right.”

  Can this be true? “Oh, Caleb.” She nearly said, I love you, too, but she held her tongue. We couldn’t possibly be suited. “Have you forgotten that I have Gypsy blood?”

  “My memory is not so bad,” he said in a dry tone.

  “You. . .don’t mind?”

  “I do mind. Or maybe I should say, I did mind. Now, when I look at you, I don’t see Gypsy. I see Maggie. My Magdalena Petra. Your Gypsy blood is part of who you are. Part of who Charlotte is. How can I help but love all of you?” He gestured to the cradle. “All of her.” He held out a hand. “Come with me. There’s something I want to show you that I hope will prove how serious I am.”

  She hesitated, glancing at the cradle and trying to decide. Charlotte had just fallen asleep and would probably be out for at least an hour.

  “I’ll come back in a minute for the cradle.”

  Reluctantly, Maggie extended a hand to him, wincing when she saw the red roughness of her skin from all the scrubbing. She bit her lip and started to pull back.

  “No.” His fingers closed around hers, and he held up her hand to the light of the window and spread her fingers, examining the damage. “You’ve worked hard, Magdalena Petra. You’ve taken a rundown business and made it a success. Be proud of this hand, not ashamed.” He kissed her palm.

  Tingles raced up her arm to swirl through her body.

  He kept his hand around hers and led her out the door to the side of the bathhouse.

  There in the path of the setting sun stood her piebald workhorses, Pete and Patty, mane and tails braided with colorful ribbons. They were hitched to her vardo. My vardo! The caravan looked resplendent—fresh and new in green-and-gold glory. Above the cherished scene, orange, bronze, and gold streaked across the purpling sky, illuminating the underside of puffy pink and white clouds.

  “Caleb!” Maggie gasped. Emotion welled. Her free hand flew to her mouth, and tears leaked from her eyes. She glanced from the caravan to Caleb and back again, unable to believe the sight.

  He brought her hand to his lips and turned it to kiss her rough palm. “Magdalena Petra, I want you for my wife.”

  “But Caleb—”

  “The vardo is a gift to you, Maggie. But it’s yours regardless of whether you marry me or not. I don’t want you to accept me because you want that caravan!”

  She gazed up at him in disbelief. “But why, Caleb? Why would you restore the vardo?”

  His smile was tender. “Because it meant so much to you.” He ticked down the list on his fingers. “Because I want Charlotte and our future children to have the experience of traveling in it. Because I figure it will be a good way for us to navigate the journey from here to Morgan’s Crossing and back when I need to travel there for business. Because, if you wish, we can go along on the expedition to the Indian reservation. And. . .because I figured that instead of a fancy honeymoon journey, you might enjoy a jaunt in your vardo.” He tipped his head toward the caravan. “I’d be willing to turn into a Gypsy for a week or ten days. I rather fancy being all alone with you and Charlotte out in the wilderness.”

  Maggie released a sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of her being. Speechless, she stared up at him, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes. With a whisper of movement like the slightest breeze, she felt the spirits of her family reassure her and nudge her toward Caleb.

  He seemed to understand, for he guided her toward the vardo’s door. “Go see. I’ll get Charlotte.”

  Maggie first went to the horses and petted and murmured to them. Once her ankle had healed, she’d visited them every day, taking along a carrot or apple slices. Jed had taken good care of the team. They’d filled out, and their coats were shiny, their feathered forelocks clean and fluffy.

  Caleb returned with the cradle. “Come see the inside. We had to guess where things went.”

  Maggie lifted her skirts to climb the ladder. She stepped inside and drew a quick breath. The interior was completely redone—the table and cabinets sanded and stained a rich mahogany. The bed had a new, floral-patterned covering and pillows that matched the curtains.

  Caleb set the cradle inside to the right of the door and climbed in after her. He gestured toward the bed. “There’s a new mattress, too.”

  Maggie ran a hand over the soft coverlet and glanced at the shiny walls. Someone had brightened up the faded folk art. She reached to touch the ceiling.

  “Pepe Sanchez from the livery did that and the detail work on the outside. Phineas O’Reilly and Gid Walker did all the restoration.”

  “They did such fine work. I wish my grandparents were here to see this.” Slowly, Maggie turned, taking in everything, her heart swelling with each loving detail she noticed.

  On the kitchen counter sat a small, enameled box. Maggie picked it up and looked inside. “Oh, my,” she said at the sight of her earrings, the gold looking shiny and new.

  “No more hiding who you are, Magdalena Petra.”

  She picked up an earring and tried to put it on. Her hands trembled, so it was a moment before she could hook it into her earlobe. The second was just as difficult. Once she had both in, she swung her head, feeling the hoops move—a sensation she’d missed in the last few weeks.

  “Caleb,” she whispered to herself. “You’re so very kind.” Remembering her grandmother’s silk dress, she gasped and hurried to the bed, attempting to fold back the mattress, but the new one was stiff and didn’t bend like the old one had. She struggled to lift it.

  “What are you doing?” Caleb grabbed the edge of the bed.

  “There’s storage underneath. Can you please hold it for me?”

  He picked up one side of the mattress and held it in place. “Go ahead.”

  Maggie leaned underneath and was relieved to see the familiar cedar box. She hefted it out. “You can put the mattress down.”

  Once he lowered the mattress, she set the box on top and lifted the lid. At the sight of the folded pink silk, Maggie was so pleased that she placed a hand to her chest and let out a sigh. She glanced up at Caleb. “This was my grandmother’s.” She touched the fabric, blinking quickly. “The gown is very special to me.” She closed the lid and motioned for him to lift the mattress again while she replaced the box underneath. “This is a dream come true! No, more than a dream. For I couldn’t even imagine the vardo looking so grand. Caleb, thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  He grinned. “My pleasure, darling.”

  She whirled, spinning so quickly her skirt belled. “Come,” she demanded. This time, she was the one who held out a hand.

  Caleb allowed her to pull him toward her before taking her into his arms and kissing her.

  Maggie stood on tiptoe and answered his kiss with a deeper, hungrier one of her own. The kiss ended, and she placed a hand on his chest. “I love my vardo. Before, I thought I wanted to live in here more than anything.” She patted his chest right over his heart. “But I’ve found my home is here, in your arms. This is where I find shelter and contentment. You are my sanctuary.”

  He tenderly brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “And you are mine, my love.”

  Maggie took his hand and towed him toward the bed. She reached up and clasped her hands around his neck, leaning backward. Giggling, she toppled them back together onto the mattress.

  He braced himself to land with his hands propped so as not to squash her.

  Maggie wiggled sideways to make room for him.

  Caleb sprawled on his back, encircling her waist with his arms. He lifted her on top of him. “Now that you’re compromising me, you’ll have to make an honest man of me, Magdalena Petra soon-to-be-Livingston.”

  Maggie laughed. “And so I will, Caleb Charles Victor Livingston. But I want a two-week honeymoon. For we’ll need plenty of time for this.” She pressed her lips to his in a passionate ki
ss.

  My Gypsy bride. Caleb’s arms tightened around her, and he deepened their kiss. Forever.

  Dear Reader

  Thank you for reading Mystic Montana Sky. I know a lot of you have waited many years for Caleb Livingston to fall in love. But you haven’t waited as long as I have, for the opening scene came to me in 2004. I’m so glad the time was finally right to bring Caleb’s story to life and give him the exact opposite wife from the kind he wanted, but who was really the one he needed.

  Charlotte was a bonus. I based the baby on my niece Christine Holland, who is now old enough to be my assistant. As an infant, she and I shared a bonding look, and I also watched her do that same exchange with my grandmother—her great-grandmother. I experienced that rare and mystical moment when a little old soul peeked out and connected, only to slide away, and once again, she was only a newborn.

  Like all my books, Mystic Montana Sky is a stand-alone story, but familiar characters from other books weave throughout—Joshua Norton and Delia Bellaire in Glorious Montana Sky; Erik and Antonia Muth in Healing Montana Sky; Ant and Harriet Gordon in Stormy Montana Sky; Wyatt and Samantha Thompson and their children in Starry Montana Sky; Gideon and Darcy Walker in Mail-Order Brides of the West: Darcy; Michael and Prudence Morgan in Mail-Order Brides of the West: Prudence; Sophia Maxwell and Kael Kelley in the upcoming Singing Montana Sky; Peter Rockwell, Blythe Robbins, and the Salter family in Sweetwater Springs Christmas; Howie Brungar and Bertha Bucholtz in Mail-Order Brides of the West: Bertha.

  This was my third book in a row with childbirth scenes, but the first one from the point of view of the woman giving birth. Katharine West, a labor and delivery nurse, generously read those scenes and gave me so much new material that it took me a week to incorporate it all into the scenes. Look up “baby crawl” (which I’d never heard of) to see the natural movement newborns make when placed on their mother’s chests directly after birth. Katharine and I figured Maggie might have some Gypsy knowledge of this practice, and I incorporated it into the story.

  Katharine is also very knowledgeable about musical history and helped with the wedding and reception scenes. Did you know Bach’s “Ode to Joy” was considered secular until the 1960s and “Pachelbel’s Canon” was lost to history until rediscovery in 1929, and then reintroduced by the Boston Pops in 1940s? Me, neither.

  Still to come is Sheriff K.C. Granger’s story in Montana Sky Justice. If you have read all of my Montana Sky series books, which include the Mail-Order Brides of the West stories, and want more of my characters while you’re waiting for my next one, go to my Montana Sky Kindle World, http://debraholland.com/kindle-worlds.html, to read fan fiction Montana Sky stories written by other authors. I’m sure you’ll enjoy their books as much as I have.

  Keep in touch by joining my newsletter list, http://debraholland.com, and receive access to a secret page on my website. Also, please follow me on Facebook and Twitter.

  Debra Holland

  Acknowledgments

  In gratitude to:

  Louella Nelson—editor, teacher, and friend—with many thanks for the love and support, as well as the days of welcoming me to her house, while I wrote and edited Mystic Montana Sky.

  To my readers, who love the Montana Sky series and who’ve been asking for Caleb Livingston’s story for years! With many thanks for your reviews, e-mails, and social media posts about my books. Every day, you inspire me.

  My Montlake Romance editor, Maria Gomez, whose support throughout the process of writing Mystic Montana Sky has been so important to me.

  My editors—Linda Carroll-Bradd and Adela Brito—who always make my stories better.

  To Delle Jacobs, who designs such beautiful covers for my books, and her brother John Mitchell, who also contributes. We went back and forth for days before finding the right images—especially the sky—for Mystic Montana Sky. But we ended up with exactly what I wanted.

  My mother, Honey Holland, and Hedy and Larry Codner (my aunt and uncle) for being my beta readers.

  Katharine West, labor and delivery nurse, for help with the childbirth scenes.

  To my Facebook friends for suggestions and research help.

  To all my friends at Pioneer Hearts, a Facebook group for the authors and readers of Historical Western Romance, for answering my questions, making suggestions when I asked for help, and for their eagerness to read more Montana Sky stories. I’m truly blessed to “know” you!

  About the Author

  Photo © 2013 Randall Hill

  Debra Holland is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Montana Sky series, a collection of heartwarming historical Western romances. In 2013, Amazon selected Starry Montana Sky as one of its Top 50 Greatest Love Stories. Debra has received the Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart Award and has been a three-time finalist for the award as well. She is also the author of the Gods’ Dream trilogy, a fantasy romance series, and The Essential Guide to Grief and Grieving, a nonfiction book. In addition, she is a contributing author to The Naked Truth about Self-Publishing. She resides in Southern California with her dog and two cats.

  You can contact Debra through her website at www.debraholland.com, on Facebook at www.facebook.com/pages/Debra-Holland-395355780562473 and www.facebook.com/debra.holland.731, and on Twitter @drdebraholland.