Singing Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series Book 7)

by Debra Holland

  “Don’t expect too much,” he warned. “It’s a simple, one-room cabin.”

  Sophia didn’t know what to say to reassure him, but she resolved to hide any negative reactions and to act as warmly toward Kael’s parents and as comfortable in their home as possible. “As long as there’s a place to sit and rest, I’ll be just fine,” she said gaily

  He stopped and stared at her in obvious dismay. He squeezed her hand. “I’m a cad to make you walk all this way when you’ve so recently been ill.”

  Sophia didn’t want to admit she’d overdone it, especially when she’d been so stubborn about walking when she could have driven. “You didn’t. I insisted, remember. I’ve gotten stronger every day. I’m sure once I rest, I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll have to keep this situation in mind the next time I’m about to let you get your way.” He touched her cheek. “Just because you’re so darn beautiful, I can’t always allow you to charm me into giving in.”

  Liking the compliment and his inner strength, she rubbed her cheek against his hand like a cat. “You have your own share of charm.”

  Kael squared his shoulders. “Men aren’t charming.”

  She laughed at his mock affronted expression. “You have manly charm.”

  He chuckled, took her hand again, and led her down the path until they stopped beside a stream. “This is our bathing place. Like the ones at Tyler’s—” he pointed “—a hot spring combines with a cold stream.”

  “Those hot pools are so relaxing. I envy Lily hers.”

  They came to a high fence around a garden. Kael released Sophia’s hand, opened the gate, and ushered her along a path through cornrows that gave way to vines of peas and beans growing over wooden racks. Sophia thought she recognized tomatoes and cucumbers and some kind of squash.

  A small log house lay on the other side of the garden. A shaded porch spanned the front. Kael’s father sat in a rocking chair, and his mother, a tattered straw hat on her head, picked a tomato from a nearby row of vegetables and placed it in the basket on her arm.

  Seeing Kael and Sophia, his parents both smiled in welcome and moved to meet them.

  His father was an older version of Kael, softened around the edges, with streaks of white in his dark hair, his sun-bronzed skin wrinkled around his eyes and mouth. But the grin Mr. Kelley aimed at Sophia had every bit as much manly charm as his son’s.

  She instantly tumbled into love with him.

  Nina Kelley wore an apron over a shabby blue dress. She was tall and spare, with the evidence of a hard life written in her lined countenance. But her smile toward Sophia was warm and welcoming.

  Kael leaned to kiss his mother’s cheek. “I’ve brought a visitor.” To Sophia, he said, “Leith and Nina Kelley.”

  Sophia bobbed her head and smiled.

  “How wonderful.” Mrs. Kelley reached to take Sophia’s hand, and then she paused, her eyes widening and her smile dipping. “Miss Maxwell?”

  For a moment, Sophia’s stomach clenched. Somehow, she didn’t think Mrs. Kelley’s reaction was due to her altered appearance, especially since her white straw hat hid the worst of her short hair.

  “Oh, dear me, where are my manners?” She clasped Sophia’s hand with both of hers. “It’s just that company is so rare, and I never in a million years expected….” Her voice trailed off. “We’ve heard you sing, Miss Maxwell…such beauty. Many a time since I’ve gone over those memories and relived your songs in my imagination.”

  Kael glanced at his mother, his eyebrows rising in obvious surprise. “So have I.”

  Mrs. Kelley smiled, seeming to recover. She released Sophia’s hand. “You must feel so blessed to provide people such experiences to treasure.”

  Sophia hadn’t thought too much about how her performances lingered in people’s memories as treasures, although she should have. She certainly had special memories of performances that she liked to replay in her mind.

  Mrs. Kelley wasn’t the first person to make such a comment. This time, Sophia heard the compliment with new ears. Once again, she realized how much she’d taken for granted.

  Until her illness, Sophia believed she’d led a very full life. Now, she wondered if she’d been sleepwalking through parts of it, missing out on important moments because of her focus on future performances.

  “Come in, Miss Maxwell.” Mrs. Kelley gestured toward the door. “You’ve had a long walk and probably could use something to drink.” She shot her son a reproving look. “After you’ve been so ill, too.”

  Sophia gave her a grateful smile. “I’d love something to drink. But just so you know, my being here is not Kael’s fault,” she said in a firm tone. “I badgered him until he gave in.”

  Kael held up a hand in surrender. “I’m still a greenhorn in learning to withstand Miss Maxwell’s entrancing wiles.” He slid Sophia a laughing glance. “But I’ll learn.”

  His mother’s eyebrows rose in obvious speculation.

  Mr. Kelley laughed and clapped his son on the shoulder.

  Sophia noticed the strain around his eyes. Exhaustion? Illness?

  “You’ll learn some, laddie,” he said, his tone wry. “But mostly it makes no difference. You’ll let your woman have her way if doing so makes her happy.” He sent his wife a loving glance.

  The idea of being thought of as Kael’s woman made heat rise in Sophia’s cheeks.

  Mrs. Kelley’s lips twitched, as if she was trying not to smile. She turned to her son. “Kael, go fetch a bucket of water so Miss Maxwell has a drink that’s cold and refreshing.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  When Kael left, Mrs. Kelley lowered her voice. “Would you like to use the privy?”

  “Please,” Sophia said.

  “Around the side of the house, that away,” Mrs. Kelley pointed. “I’ll have soap and wash water waiting.”

  Sophia hurried to use the privy out back. Once finished, she came around the corner of the house and saw Leith in the garden bent over picking something. He straightened, his hands full of plump, red strawberries.

  Those look delicious. She could already taste the sweet fruit. Climbing the steps to the porch, she crossed to enter Kael’s home. Although Sophia had seen houses this small from the train or while driving through Sweetwater Springs, she’d never been inside one and marveled at the compact dimensions—probably not more than twenty feet across.

  The big bed covered with a patchwork quilt took up most of the space. After a glance around, she wondered where Kael slept.

  Not much sunlight reached inside, only from the doorway and two small windows—one in the front and one on the side. Three people living in such a small space would be a tight squeeze. What about families with more children? She couldn’t imagine eight or ten children in this size house, along with parents and perhaps a grandparent or two, although she knew such living situations were common. The very idea made her claustrophobic.

  Mrs. Kelley directed Sophia toward a basin, where she washed her hands with lumpy gray soap and dried them on a ragged, but clean, towel, soft and worn from long use.

  “I hope you like salad,” Mrs. Kelley commented. “Sometimes at midday instead of having a big dinner, when it’s hot and Kael’s not around, we eat lightly from what’s in the garden.”

  “Sounds lovely.”

  The men entered the house, their big frames darkening the doorway.

  Mr. Kelley washed the strawberries and set them on a tin plate that he placed in the center of a small table. He held out a chair for his wife.

  Kael did likewise for Sophia.

  Once they were all seated and bowed their heads, Mr. Kelley said a prayer, after which they partook of a simple meal of greens, radish and carrot slices, pine nuts, and peas, tossed with oil and vinegar, salt and pepper. Dessert was sweet, warm strawberries.

  Kael told his parents about Sophia’s wish to hear them sing to the moon, and how she needed to be back at the ranch before dark.

  “For goodness sakes!” Mrs. Kelley
exclaimed. “I don’t know why you’d want to hear us, Miss Maxwell, when you’re used to such fine professional performances. But there’s no need to wait until dark. We can sing anytime.”

  “Better now, anyway,” Mr. Kelley interjected with a wink at Sophia. “I need to go to bed earlier these days. This way my wife won’t jab me with her sharp elbow if I fall asleep and start to snore in the middle of a song.”

  Sophia laughed, delighted with him, and worried a serious affliction was the cause of his drawn features. “I doubt Mrs. Kelley would ever do such a thing.”

  Leith winked at her.

  “I wish you could perform with us, Miss Maxwell,” Mrs. Kelley said in a wistful tone. “That would sure be a treat.”

  “Perhaps for the next full moon I can. But—” she held up a hand, pretending to be stern. “Only if you call me Sophia.” She relaxed her expression into a smile and sipped her water.

  Mr. Kelley flourished his fork in her direction. “We’d be honored.” He looked about to say something more, glanced at his son, and back at her. With a slight smile, he shook his head.

  “Well—” said Kael’s mother “—we’re simple folk. Call us Nina and Leith.” She dabbed her lips, folded her napkin, and laid it next to her plate. “Now, Sophia, I don’t know what Kael’s told you about our tradition of singing to the moon.”

  Sophia figured she shouldn’t mention druids and howling wolves. “Not very much.”

  “My family is Welsh. There are singers in every generation going back hundreds of years,” Nina said with obvious pride. “My ancestors were bards in the courts of the ancient Welsh kings. We’ve never forgotten our heritage.”

  Sophia was impressed by Kael’s lineage and felt a twinge of envy. What must it be like to have the blood of ancient bards running through your veins?

  With a twinkle in his eyes, Kael leaned back in his chair. “Not as impressive as it sounds. Apparently, Welsh kings were scattered around that country like acorns under an oak.”

  Sophia laughed and pushed on his arm. “Just like a man to take away the romance.” She glanced at Nina. “I think your family tradition is wonderful. Have you a written history or just an oral one?”

  Nina gave her son a repressive glance. “Only oral, I’m afraid. We’ve passed vocal techniques down through the generations. I can’t claim to be trained as opera singers are. So, I hope you’ll find our voices pleasant.”

  “I’ve heard Kael sing, and I found his baritone much more than pleasant so I’m looking forward to hearing you all.”

  Nina gestured toward the door. “Shall we go outside? I can clean up the dishes after you leave. Bring your water with you.”

  “I don’t mind helping.” Sophia’s offer wasn’t even a lie. The amount of dishes the Kelleys used was a pittance compared to the load Mrs. Pendell and Lily tackled after every meal.

  “Nonsense.” Leith placed his hand on his wife’s lower back to usher her toward the door. “No sense wasting time on housework that could be spent with our special guest.”

  Three rocking chairs lined the porch, two of them oversized, and all obviously homemade.

  Nina touched the top of the smaller one. “Sit here, Sophia. Kael will bring another for me.”

  A moment later, Kael came outside, one-handedly carrying a chair from the table. “Here you go, Ma.”

  Once they’d all settled in, the men looked at Nina.

  She nodded, and the three began to sing the familiar strains of “Oh, Shenandoah.”

  Sophia settled back to listen with pleasure. Nina was a lovely mezzosoprano, while Leith had a baritone similar to Kael’s made rougher with age.

  The family sang ballads in Welsh and in Gaelic, along with songs of Stephen Foster, some folksongs, a couple of rounds, and even a few hymns. The order seemed to be established, for they flowed from one song to another with barely a pause in between, unless to take a sip of water.

  Sophia longed to sing with them, to join her voice in this simple, informal, but heartwarming way. She crossed her fingers. Hopefully before the next full moon.

  As she listened, Sophia realized she wasn’t acting as if she enjoyed herself, she was enjoying herself. She found Kael’s parents charming, and the family’s obvious love for each other showed their deep connection.

  Although as different in looks and circumstance as two women could be, Nina reminded Sophia of her own mother. Both were interesting women of strength, warmth, and compassion. A surprising stab of old grief reminded her of the days when her family was complete. Suddenly, she missed her mother with a desperate ache.

  As dissimilar as our circumstances, Kael and I both come from the same place—a loving family that has been, and still remains, our bedrock.

  Perhaps nothing but love really matters.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Sophia counted down the days until a week passed, and she could finally attempt to sing. The time went by more quickly than she’d expected. Her sister coaxed her to ride—a pasttime Sophia and Emma had given up after Lily’s accident, when she was bedridden, in pain, and mourning the loss of her beloved horse, whom their father had to shoot because of its broken leg. The two girls had stopped riding, not so much out of fear of something similar happening, but because for them to enjoy the activity didn’t seem fair.

  As she ticked off the long, hot summer days, Sophia found renewed joy in life. She explored the ranch with her sister, riding, driving the buggy, or walking, while Adeline napped, watched over by Mrs. Pendell. After school let out, she had fun riding with Oliver to see all his favorite spots.

  Once, Kael appeared with a basket of food. He borrowed Big Brute, and the two rode into the forest for a romantic picnic in a small glade filled with wildflowers. He stole some kisses, making her want more and igniting a longing that heightened each time she saw him. Her thoughts dwelt on him almost as much as she fretted about what would happen when she tested her singing voice.

  The morning of the seventh day, Sophia awoke with a knot in her stomach, after a night of anxious dreaming. She lay in bed, breathing deeply and fervertly praying. Please, please, dear Lord, may my singing voice be restored!

  Through the thick wooden walls of her bedroom, she could faintly hear male voices, and she waited until she figured they’d eaten and left. This morning, Sophia didn’t have it in her to talk to anyone, although for politeness’s sake, she’d have to speak to Lilly and Mrs. Pendell.

  She’d already discussed her plan with the two women—to find an out-of-the-way spot to test her voice. I’ll succeed or fail in privacy.

  Finally, Sophia could stand the suspense no longer. She rose, washed up, and donned her loosest dress, determined not to wear a corset, for she’d need every bit of breath she could muster.

  She left the room and went into the kitchen, saying a quiet good morning to Lily, who was seated at the table with her daughter on her lap, feeding her something that looked like runny porridge, most of which smeared over Adeline’s face instead of landing in her mouth.

  The baby leaned to grab for the jar of strawberry jam on the table. When Adeline saw Sophia, she gave a toothless grin and bounced on Lily’s lap. Both mother and daughter were dressed in pale gray with pink blossoms scattered across the print.

  Lily turned and looked up. “This is your big day.”

  Mrs. Pendell, at the stove, ladled out pancake batter onto a griddle. “I’ve the kettle on for your tea, Miss Sophia.” She waved the ladle at a stack of pancakes on a heavy plate set on a small counter near the stove. “How many do you want?”

  Sophia pressed a hand to her stomach, so nervous she wasn’t sure she could eat.

  The housekeeper’s face showed understanding. “How about this? I’ll make you some, butter them, and spread on the blueberry jam you like. Then I’ll roll them up, and you can take them with you and eat them later when you’re hungry.”

  “Sound’s perfect,” she said, touched by the housekeeper’s concern for her well-being.

  Mr
s. Pendell indicated the table. “You sit. I’ll make your tea with honey and lemon, as well as send some to take along with you in a Mason jar.”

  Sophia managed a smile for the housekeeper’s kindness. “You’ve thought of everything. Thank you.” She took a seat next to Lily and dropped a kiss on top of Adeline’s head. “Hello, my sweet.”

  Her sister glanced over. “I figured today was a good time for her to try food.”

  Sophia couldn’t help but chuckle. If anything, her niece looked even more adorable with porridge smeared on her face.

  “I needed something to distract myself from worrying about your singing voice.”

  “Adeline provides the perfect distraction.”

  Mrs. Pendell placed a steaming cup and saucer on the table in front of Sophia.

  Nodding thanks, she sipped her tea and watched her sister and niece, grateful she had a chance to see Adeline’s first attempt at real food. The knot in her stomach eased, even if it didn’t entirely go away.

  When Sophia finished the tea, she stood to take the cup and saucer back to Mrs. Pendell and accepted the Mason jar and packet of food.

  Carrying their best wishes with her, she grabbed up her wide hat that hung on the rack near the front door. Sophia had brought the hat, made of tightly woven straw, with a blue satin band circling the brim, because she could tie the ribbons under her chin and didn’t need to use hatpins.

  Outside, she headed away from the house and barn, avoiding the summer heat by strolling in the shade alongside the stream. At a placid pool formed by a circle of rocks, she saw a swan glide over the surface.

  The bird saw her, lifted its graceful neck, and spread its wings. With powerful beats and a running start, the swan launched into the sky. The sun’s rays illuminated the spread of white feathers in a shimmer of light, transforming the swan into a magical creature—one from a Russian fairy tale, perhaps.

  The flight of the swan was so beautiful that Sophia’s spirits lifted in pleasure. A good omen.

  Excitement quickened her steps. She continued on, searching for the perfect place to practice.

  Finally, Sophia found a private area out of earshot of everyone. Here, shaded by willows and other trees, the stream ran quietly over a sandy bottom. Perfect. She placed the napkin holding her breakfast and the jar of tea on a nearby rock and untied her hat, setting it next to the food.