Singing Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series Book 7)

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Singing Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series Book 7) Page 17

by Debra Holland


  Tyler came around the wagon to take Adeline from Lily and helped his wife down. “Everyone loves your peach cobbler, Mrs. P.” His gray eyes twinkled.

  She sniffed but looked pleased. “I wanted plenty for Miss Sophia, so I made a double batch, because you ruffians will eat every bite.”

  “I will!” said Oliver with a proud smile.

  “And lick the plate clean, too,” Billy offered, and then looked chastened when the older men glared at him.

  Aaron gave his brother a clout on the shoulder. “Manners, boy.”

  “You do it, too.” Billy protested. “All of you.” Apparently emboldened by brotherly rivalry, he glanced at Sophia. “But only when Mrs. Pendell or Mrs. Dunn ain’t lookin’.”

  Aaron rolled his eyes, but he must have decided to ignore the youngster. “I’m sure you’d like to get inside the house and be comfortable, Miss Maxwell.” Again, he crooked his elbow.

  Sophia gave a soundless chuckle, already sure that staying at Green Valley Ranch would be good for her spirits.

  “You, men, stop flirtin’,” Tyler ordered. “Carry Miss Sophia’s trunks into the guest room.”

  Looking like a sad puppy who’d just been kicked, Aaron lowered his arm. But then he winked at Sophia.

  She couldn’t help but smile at the rogue.

  Oliver tugged on her skirt. “Want to see the kittens, Aunt Sophia?”

  Mrs. Pendell patted the boy’s shoulder. “Now, you let your auntie get settled. She can see the kittens after supper. The food’s ready to eat, and I don’t want anything to get cold or over cooked.”

  His shoulders slumped. He nodded, his freckled face downcast.

  “Peach cobbler,” his father reminded him.

  Oliver’s eyes lit up. “Yeah.”

  Lily patted Tyler’s arm. “You give the baby to Mrs. Pendell. Sophia and I are heading to the privy.” She tucked her hand around Sophia’s arm and tugged her in the direction of the wooden outhouse.

  As they moved toward the privy, Sophia thought longingly of indoor plumbing, which she wouldn’t have access to until she returned to the hotel. The worst part of visiting Lily was using the outhouse or the chamber pot stored under her bed.

  The tiny building wasn’t in the same place as before but was moved over about forty feet and still upwind of the house. Until Lily came to live at the ranch, everyone had used pages from catalogues to wipe themselves. Now her sister imported the same type of toilet paper they used in Chicago. Slight progress.

  Afterward, as the two made their way toward the house, the three cowboys exited from delivering the trunks, touching their foreheads in acknowledgment to Lily and Sophia.

  They stepped into the combination kitchen and dining room, and Sophia caught the smell of fish and bacon. Her gaze went to the big cast-iron stove.

  Mrs. Pendell caught Sophia’s interest. “I made ’em just the way you like ’em, Miss Sophia. Rolled in cornmeal and fried in bacon grease.”

  Sophia nodded, although she didn’t think she’d ever had trout cooked any other way. She was pretty sure the batch Mrs. Pendell made on her last visit was her first taste of them.

  “The men went out fishing today,” Mrs. Pendell said. “So they could catch a batch of fresh ones for you. Nothing like having an excuse to sneak off and avoid work.” Her expression of pride contrasted with her disapproving words.

  Sophia smiled and placed the tips of her fingers on her heart, hoping Mrs. Pendell would understand her silent message of appreciation.

  The housekeeper must have, for she smiled.

  In looking around, Sophia spotted a portrait of Adeline above the large table next to one of Oliver.

  Lily noticed her gaze. “There are more portraits. One in the parlor and one in our bedroom. At the rate I’m going, soon I’ll be able to wallpaper the whole house with drawings of the children.”

  From time to time, Lily had sent Sophia sketches. Now, she decided to request a portrait of her nephew and niece to take home.

  Mrs. Pendell made a shooing motion toward the guest room. “You wash up, Miss Sophia. I’ll have supper on the table when you come out.”

  Sophia smiled and dipped her chin in acknowledgment, walking down the hall to her room. The guest room was large enough for her trunks to be laid out against the walls. A four-drawer dresser and the luggage took all the space, leaving only a narrow walkway around the big bed covered with a wedding ring quilt.

  She opened a trunk and removed her coat. A full-length mirror stood in one corner. Having no desire to see herself, Sophia carried her coat to the mirror and dropped the garment over the top, covering the looking glass.

  Using the pitcher and basin provided, she washed her face and hands, removed her ugly widow’s bonnet, and threw it into the corner. The hat had served its purpose, and, unless she went to town, she could stick to wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat to protect her face from the sun. She could also leave off wearing black. After almost a week, she was tired of the color, even if the hue did become her, and promised herself she’d don a purple or blue dress on the morrow.

  Sophia heard the sound of booted footsteps on the floor and low-voiced male conversation. When she emerged, she saw the cowboys had gathered around the kitchen table, but, obviously waiting on the ladies, hadn’t taken a seat.

  Aaron was the first to note her entrance. His gaze went to her shorn head. Even though he must have known what to expect, an expression of shock crossed his face.

  The other men, noticing his startled response, looked toward her and couldn’t hide similar distressed reactions.

  Mrs. Pendell glanced at Sophia and pressed her lips together before grabbing the sides of her apron and flipping it at the cowboys. “Habakkuk, pull out a chair for Miss Sophia. The rest of you sit down. Miz Lily is feeding the baby and will be out soon.”

  Her stomach hollow and her throat tight, Sophia allowed Habakkuk to seat her. She spread her napkin over her lap and looked around the table with a bright smile for everyone, which she hoped didn’t appear as false as it felt.

  Oliver studied Sophia’s head, his eyebrows pulling together. “You look funny, Aunt Sophia. Like a boy.”

  Into the embarrassed silence that followed, Tyler raised a finger. “Oliver, that’s enough,” His admonition sounded too loud. “Not another word.”

  Downcast, the boy hung his head, before glancing at Sophia with a repentant look.

  That woebegone expression went straight to her heart. Oliver’s just being honest, which is actually refreshing. Sophia held up her hand in a stopping motion at Tyler, smiled at her nephew, and blew him a kiss. I’m all right, she tried to convey.

  Everyone relaxed.

  Brisk footsteps heralded the appearance of Lily carrying Adeline. She slipped into her seat at the end of the table and set the baby upright in her lap, propped against her stomach.

  Mrs. Pendell placed an enormous platter of crispy trout on the table.

  Sophia eyed the fish, then looked at the men who watched as if waiting for her reaction. She smiled, wishing she could lavish praise. They were good men, although usually shy, and she enjoyed making them turn red and stammer.

  The smile seemed to do the trick for they bobbed their heads in acknowledgment.

  Mrs. Pendell set the rest of the food on the table. Peas, mashed potatoes, baked squash, as well as a basket of biscuits, which, as far as Sophia could tell, were on the menu for every meal.

  While everyone bowed their heads, Tyler said a prayer of thanksgiving for the food. He also included a statement of gratitude for Sophia’s health and their joy that she was paying them a long visit.

  Hearing the prayer, especially the caring in his voice, deeply touched her.

  As soon as he finished, the platters were passed around. People helped themselves, and everyone, even Sophia, dug into the food. On previous visits, she’d provided the entertainment by telling stories of her life.

  Now, everyone remained silent, concentrating on eating. She wondered if they
were always so quiet or if her presence—looking as she did and unable to join in a conversation—inhibited them.

  After the last delightful bite of Mrs. Pendell’s peach cobbler had vanished—although no one licked his plate—Oliver sent his mother a pleading glance. “Supper is over. Can I please take Aunt Sophia to the barn to see the kittens now?”

  Lily glanced in askance at Sophia.

  She nodded and smiled at the boy.

  Oliver pushed back his chair and grabbed her hand. “Come on.”

  “Oliver,” Lily chided. “Take your dishes to the sink first. And, while you’re at it, take Aunt Sophia’s, too.”

  “Yes’m.” He set his utensils and milk glass on his plate and carried them into the kitchen area. He returned and did the same with Sophia’s.

  Lily let Adeline grab her finger. “When you’re finished playing with the kittens, would you like a soak in the hot spring?”

  Sophia suspected after the long drive, her sister needed the healing waters more than she did. But she would also relish the chance to relax in the hot water. She gave an eager nod.

  “Me, too,” Oliver said, his eyes bright.

  Lily looked at him. “I suspect someone has schoolwork.”

  He scowled. “Spelling words and arithmetic problems.

  “Then I doubt you’ll have time for a soak. But—” Lily glanced at Sophia, giving her a smile that acknowledged their childhood struggles with schoolwork. “Once you’ve learned your words, I’m sure your aunt will want to hear you spell them.”

  “Yeah! Oliver took Sophia’s hand and tugged her out of the chair. “Let’s go, Aunt Sophia.”

  He led her from the house, across the yard, and into the big red barn.

  The orange ball of the sun was dropping toward the tip of the mountains. But plenty of light remained to see by.

  Inside the barn, Sophia glanced around the shadowy interior, inhaling the smell of horses. She’d been in the barn on her first visit when Lily had showed her around her new domain. They hadn’t lingered to explore in more detail.

  The hayloft took up about a third of the barn. Oliver towed her to a ladder propped against the edge. He released her hand and scrambled up the rungs like a monkey, then knelt to stick his head over. “Come on up, Aunt Sophia. It’s easy.”

  Easy for a boy wearing britches.

  Sophia held up her skirts in one hand, while she awkwardly climbed the ladder, giving serious consideration to having a set of bloomers made to wear around the ranch. She remembered at the Christmas visit seeing a young woman in bloomers riding a bicycle on the street near the hotel—an unusual sight even in Chicago. But she hadn’t spotted that girl again, nor seen any other woman in Sweetwater Springs wearing the modern garment.

  She wondered if Lily ever wore bloomers. If not, she’d order some for her sister, too. Might as well set a new fashion out here. She chuckled to herself, imagining stout Mrs. Pendell in a pair. She reached the top of the ladder and inelegantly maneuvered herself from the ladder to the hayloft floor.

  Against one wall, the kittens were snuggled with their mother in a bed of hay.

  Oh, they’re so precious! Sophia wanted to coo at them, settling instead for what probably was a fatuous smile. She sank down on her knees in the hay next to the litter.

  Oliver scrunched a face. “Habakkuk said they should be drowned, otherwise we’ll be overrun with cats. But I know he didn’t really mean it. When he thought I wasn’t looking, he picked up Vixen and gave her a cuddle.”

  The mother cat’s initial wary green gaze softened when Oliver stroked her head.

  “This is Amazon. Pa named her that because she’s a fierce mouser like an Amazon warrior. A ratter, too. Did you know the Amazon is a huge river in South America? The biggest in the world, Mrs. Gordon says. Warrior women live there. That’s why they’re called Amazons.”

  Sounds like an idea for an opera.

  “We’re not sure who the kittens’ pa is, maybe more than one, but we guess the Walkers’ tom cat. His name really isn’t Tom, but Victor Hugo, who must have made his way over here to court Amazon.”

  As Oliver rattled on, Sophia realized when she was with her nephew, she didn’t need her voice. He engaged in whole conversations without her saying a word.

  She liked hearing what Oliver had to say, the expressions he made when he talked, the expressiveness in his eyes, and the way he looked at her with innocent adoration. As she listened, Sophia felt herself relaxing into the hay, enjoying spending time together, just the two of them.

  Her parents had never been strict about the children-should-be-seen-and-not-heard rule, especially after Lily’s accident. Sophia had once overheard a caller criticize her mother for the way she spoiled her daughters. Mama had calmly answered, “I’m grateful to have three daughters to spoil. Almost losing one changes what you consider to be important.”

  Lily obviously extended the same philosophy to Oliver, even though she’d only been mothering him for two years.

  Sophia had fallen in love with Oliver on her first visit to Sweetwater Springs for Lily’s wedding, yet she hadn’t fully absorbed what it meant to be an aunt. How could I, only staying a few days each time? She had an impulse to pull Oliver into a hug and plant kisses all over his freckled nose and cheeks. As a boy child, though, he might reluctantly submit to one kiss but not to half a dozen.

  “Since there are eight of ’em—” Oliver skimmed a palm over the kittens “—I named them after Santa’s reindeer from the story, A Visit from St. Nicholas. Pa says eight kittens are rare, so they must be pretty special. Course, I don’t really know if which ones are boys and which are girls. I just guessed.” He rose on his knees to better hover over the litter and gently tapped the head of one curled up close to the mother. “This one’s Dasher. See, you can tell from his white paw.” He slid a finger under the kitten’s leg to show the paw in question. “Dancer is….” His hand circled and touched down on a calico. “Here. See the gold markings on her side?”

  She nodded.

  “Prancer’s easy. He’s all orangey.” He pointed out the kitten. “Vixen is almost all black except this ruff around her neck. Donder is gray like Thunder, cuz that’s what his name means in German.” As he spoke, Oliver touched each kitten. “Cupid has a heart right here, see?” He traced a pattern on the brindle kitten’s back that looked vaguely like a heart. “Comet and Blitzen are hard because they’re both all black and look the same. I keep getting ’em mixed up.”

  Sophia smiled and ruffled Oliver’s hair.

  “Which one do you want for yourself, Aunt Sophia?”

  She started to shake her head and then realized there was no reason she couldn’t have a kitten, at least while she stayed at the ranch. Smiling, she reached over and plucked Cupid from the bunch.

  The kitten opened her mouth in a yawn and sleepily stretched out all four legs, tiny claws extended.

  Sophia leaned back against a beam and placed the kitten in her lap, stroking the soft, tiny body, feeling almost as relaxed as Cupid. I can’t remember when I last felt this way. Not for months, maybe longer.

  Her life was busy and rushed. She always had her mind on the next performance or social event. When she did have time, Sophia preferred to stay in her bedroom and read or take naps. Not often did she allow herself to just be. Rarely did she stop and appreciate her life. Why do you have to lose something important to appreciate its worth?

  She gently rubbed Cupid’s head. I can’t let that happen again. I must promise myself to remain cognizant of my blessings—to appreciate what I have. I must not spoil this visit to Green Valley Ranch because of resentment and longing for what I’ve lost.

  Instead, Sophia promised herself, I’ll focus as much as possible on enjoying myself while I’m in Sweetwater Springs. A vision of Kael Kelley flashed into her head.

  This primitive little town has more to offer than I originally thought.

  * * *

  The next day after the breakfast dishes were washed
and put away, Mrs. Pendell shooed Lily and Sophia to the porch to, as she put it, “Have some time to yourselves while the men are out working, and we have a bit of quiet around here.”

  While Sophia held Adeline, Lily spread a faded patchwork quilt on the floor of the porch, scattering some painted wooden blocks and empty thread spools on the cloth for the baby to play with. Sophia laid her niece on top of the blanket.

  The baby’s attention on her toys allowed Sophia and Lily to talk. Sophia had already written out an account of her encounter with Kael Kelley, including a disclaimer of her foolishness in going out alone at night in the first place, much less near a saloon. She included almost everything that had happened except that she’d kissed Kael and her ensuing response to the man. She ended the story with: Mr. Kelley said he’s Tyler’s best friend, which considerably reassured me as to my safety with him as an escort back to the hotel. Is that the truth? Do you know him?

  Lily took the pad from her and began to read.

  With her sister’s attention focused on the story, she took the time to study Lily. In the bustle of Blythe’s wedding, Sophia’s arrival at the ranch, supper, then turning in for an early evening, getting up early to write the story of last night for her sister, and finally breakfast, Sophia had her attention constantly claimed by someone wanting to talk to her, or she focused her attention on her adorable niece.

  Lily’s slight frame had filled out since the birth of Adeline, and the womanly roundness suited her. But more importantly, her sister had an air of matronly happiness Sophia had never seen before—or at least not since the accident. She hadn’t realized how Lily had always worn a slight air of sadness buried under her determination to succeed as a botanical illustrator. Now she radiated contentment and maternal love.

  At one point of reading, Lily gasped and looked up from the pad. “Sophia!” she admonished.

  Knowing exactly the part she’d read, Sophia wrinkled her nose and made a “go on” gesture.

  Lily shook her head and gave her a scolding look that reminded Sophia of their mother. When she finished reading, she held the pad to her chest, her eyes wide. “Thank goodness Kael was there to rescue you. I can’t bear to think what might have happened!”

 

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