Montana Grit
Page 25
Her articles about national affairs and global events were rarely remarked upon. However, she always received letters to the editor about the N&N section, along with suggestions for the next edition. “I’ll expand that section to include it in every newspaper, and I’ll make it longer in each paper. I should have known to play to the townsfolk’s vanity and need for gossip,” she muttered.
She tapped her pencil on the paper as she brainstormed other topics that would interest the townsfolk in a small Montana town, with a mining town in the mountains above and an expansive valley below filled with cattle and cattlemen. She left that thought for later and wrote it in the challenges column. Little interest in nonlocal affairs. No distribution network. Questionable literacy of townsfolk.
She dropped her pencil and jerked around as the door burst open. She met the irate gaze of the man she had termed the town’s “most disreputable gentleman” since her arrival. “Hello, Mr. MacKinnon. It’s lovely to see you today.”
Ewan MacKinnon strolled into her office with the grace of a panther. His blond hair with hints of red in it hung to his shoulders, and he was in need of a shave. In his anger, he forgot to doff his hat to her, and he took it off, tracing the brim between his long fingers. Irate brown eyes met her cognac-colored gaze, and his glare intensified as he saw her poorly concealed amusement. “Must ye write about me in every damn edition of yer newspaper?” he demanded.
“You know as well as I do that an N&N isn’t in this paper,” she said with a triumphant smile.
“Oh, ye act all coy. I ken what ye’re doin’. Ye’re tryin’ to make me out to be the town fool. But ye willna succeed. I promise ye that.” He took a deep breath. “How can ye write that the cow got the better of me and that I’m lookin’ for a rematch?”
She giggled and looked away. “Forgive me. I thought that was what truly occurred. Did you or did you not interact with the cow? And did you not end up in the middle of a cow pie after it … nudged you with its behind?”
He reddened. “Aye, that is what occurred. But ye dinna have to write about it and tell the entire world about it!”
She laughed. “I doubt the world is interested in the meaningless antics of a cow in our little town of Bear Grass Springs, Mr. MacKinnon. From what I’ve heard, the rest of the world is busy mourning the death of P. T. Barnum’s giant elephant, Jumbo, in a train wreck. I’d be thankful you rate over the death of an elephant in the townsfolk’s estimation.”
“Ye are a daft woman,” Ewan said as he rolled his eyes.
“That may be, but, from what I heard, you had quite a cotillion of women eager to aid you as you struggled to rise.”
He flushed red as he turned away from her.
“It’s such a pity you pulled Miss Jameson onto your lap rather than allowing her to help you up.” She bit her lip as his back stiffened and his hold on his hat tightened. “I don’t know as her dress will ever recover.”
After a moment, he spun to face her. “Yer articles, an’ the actions of women in this town who should ken better, willna force me to marry a woman I dinna like.”
She smiled. “Then I suggest you be more careful about whose hand you accept for aid.”
“I could barely see!”
She cleared her throat as though swallowing a chuckle. “Yes, I did hear about the unfortunate, uh, splatter that covered your face.”
He ran a hand over his jaw but not before she saw a hint of a smile. “Ye enjoy this, do ye no’? The small-town antics that drive most of us insane?”
She shrugged. “It’s what keeps a small town going and knits everyone together. I have to say, it was a difficult article to write as the Jamesons will not speak with me, and the cow was more interested in chewing her cud. And you, well, I know better than to ask you for an interview. So I listened to others describe what they saw as I ate my meals at the café.”
Ewan rolled his eyes again. “Why should the Jamesons speak with ye when ye started speculatin’ about Helen’s respectability in one of yer first papers?” Any humor hidden in his gaze disappeared as he sobered. “Ye can write articles about me, an’ I will no’ be affected. I’m a man. But ye canna write about a lass. ’Tisn’t right, Miss McMahon.”
Jessamine shrugged. “If she is acting outside of the bounds of propriety, she is fair game for a reporter.”
Ewan cocked his head to one side as he stared at her. The light glinting in through the windows cast a reddish tint to his dark blond hair. “Do ye no’ care what ye could do to that girl? Do ye not ken how hard her life already is, livin’ with her mother and brother?”
She rolled her eyes. “Life is hard, Mr. MacKinnon. It’s the one truth we should all understand and accept.”
He took a step toward her as his gaze hardened. “Aye, ’tis. But that means ye should no’ go around attemptin’ to make it harder for those who canna defend themselves. Yer cow story is entertainin’ until the point ye make Helen a laughingstock. Then ye go too far. Ye always go too far.”
His irate glare met her indignant, defiant stare, and then he spun on his heel and stormed away. The door rattled as it slammed shut behind him.
She dropped her pencil on her desk and sighed. “You’re wrong, Mr. MacKinnon. I never go far enough.”
Available April, 10 2018!
Also by Ramona Flightner
Bear Grass Springs Series:
Montana Untamed
Montana Grit
Montana Maverick- April 2018
Montana Renegade- May 2018
Banished Saga
Banished Saga: Books One & Two
Undaunted Love, Part One (Banished Saga, Book 3)
Undaunted Love, Part Two (Banished Saga, Book 3.5)
Afterword
Thank you for reading, Montana Grit! I hope you are enjoying this new series as much as I am enjoying writing it. I love hearing from you, so please feel free to write me and let me know what you think! You can reach me at: ramona@ramonaflightner.com
Ramona
About the Author
Ramona Flightner is a historical romance author. She lives in Montana, and is the author of the Bear Grass Springs Series and the Banished Saga.