Painted Montana Sky: A Montana Sky Series Novella

by Debra Holland

  Gathering up her skirts, Lily fought the flow of water back to the bank, and crawled out. Struggling to her feet, she ran along the river to catch up with the dog.

  Her corset cut off her breath. Despair forced her on. Her foot caught on a tuft of grass and she stumbled and almost went down. Lily barely felt the wrench of pain in her hip as she forced herself to keep going. “Dove!” she cried.

  A clump of western alder blocked her view of the river. Would she never get around them? Dear Lord, please! Please save her!

  Her breath wheezed. And as hard as she tried, Lily couldn’t move her crippled leg faster.

  I’m not going to reach her. She’s going to drown!

  CHAPTER THREE

  A day couldn’t get any better. Tyler welcomed the warmth of the sun on his shoulders, the scent of new growth in the air. Although he usually took the beauty of his ranch for granted, on a fine spring day after a long winter, he couldn’t help but appreciate God’s handiwork. The distant mountains, still snowcapped, a velvet-green spread of new grass, a blue, blue sky, and a rushing river, swollen with snowmelt and full of trout… Yes, I’m blessed, indeed.

  He eyed his horse and Oliver’s pony grazing under some cottonwoods, and then checked on his son who’d tossed a net into the water, making sure the boy kept his feet planted on dry land. At age six, Oliver enjoyed playing with a net better than using a fishing pole. Not that they could use poles today, anyway. In snowmelt water, deep and swift, the fish couldn’t see the bait.

  Behind him, a campfire burned, sending puffs of smoke into the air, ready to cook their meal and warm them up if they became wet. And judging how he’d grabbed Oliver a time or two before he unbalanced into the river, getting wet was inevitable. Already three trout swam in the tiny pool Tyler had dammed up on the side of the river, enough for a meal.

  A woman’s scream split the air.

  What in tarnation? Tyler jerked his net out of the river, dropped it on land, and grabbed for the rifle he’d propped against a convenient rock nearby his feet. “Stay here,” he ordered Oliver.

  Another scream, this time with words that sounded like a name.

  Carrying the rifle, he started toward the sounds.

  “Pa, look!” Oliver yelled.

  Tyler whirled and glanced at his son.

  The boy pointed at the river.

  Far upstream, a dog struggled in the water. The current swept it against a rock, and the animal clawed and struggled to find purchase before slipping back in.

  Poor creature won’t last. Not in that freezing, raging water.

  “Save him, Pa!” His son turned his way, an expression of entreaty on his freckled face.

  “I will.” His thoughts raced as he developed a strategy to rescue the little varmint.

  Tyler set down the rifle and pulled off his hat, tossing it to the ground. “Stay out of the water, son. Build up the fire. Have a blanket ready.”

  Oliver rushed to obey.

  Needing enough of a head start so he could cross to the animal before it sped past him, Tyler ran down river. Judging the distance, he almost stopped to pull his boots off but reasoned he’d need them to protect his feet. He splashed into the river. The icy water overflowed into his boots, weighing him down. He winced as the frigid cold bit at his feet and legs.

  The deeper Tyler went, the more he had to brace against the power of the river. He stumbled over a hidden rock and almost fell. He straightened at the cost of a wet side and arm.

  The dog paddled to stay afloat, long ears dragging, panic in its brown eyes. Didn’t seem to be a big dog, and Tyler could tell by the sluggish movements of the animal’s legs that it wouldn’t last much longer.

  “Here, boy,” he called, extending his arms and leaping another foot closer.

  The dog obeyed, trying to swim in Tyler’s direction. Too exhausted, the animal barely angled an inch.

  But that was enough. With one more leap that soaked him to his chest, Tyler grabbed the nearest leg, and then worked his hands up the animal’s fur to the neck. He grasped a collar, towed the animal his direction, and then yanked the dog to him.

  Hefting the dog, which must weigh an extra ten pounds wet, Tyler struggled to keep upright. The current pulled at his legs and the soles of his boots slipped off slimy rocks. Submerged branches tripped him. The cold water numbed his limbs, making it hard to move. Tyler’s ribs squeezed his lungs, and he gasped for air.

  I’m a damn fool to put my life in danger for an animal when I have a son to take care of!

  The dog shivered in his arms, but, thankfully, didn’t try to escape. Carrying an animal that fought him probably would have unbalanced them both.

  No use trying to wade back, so Tyler let his body go with the current, angling toward the shore.

  Oliver ran along the river, yelling and flapping the blanket. But the sound of the rushing water drowned out his words.

  The closer Tyler got to shore, the heavier the dog became. He burrowed his hands into the thick fur lest his numb fingers let the animal slip.

  Almost there. His muscles convulsing, he waded to the shallows, breathing in panting breaths, the dog almost too heavy in his arms.

  “You got him, Pa!”

  The hero worship on his son’s face was enough to give Tyler the extra energy to stagger out of the water, carrying the waterlogged dog.

  Oliver wrapped the blanket around the shivering animal. “Can I hold him, Pa?”

  Tyler had to force out the words. “Let’s get back to the fire first, son.”

  Another high-pitched scream of “Dove! Dove!” made Tyler look up. He’d forgotten about the woman.

  She rounded the stand of trees and bushes, a young lady in a soaked lavender dress, moving with an ungainly gait. Her anguished expression made Tyler straighten so she could see he held her dog, though both of them were shaking.

  With her next step, she tripped and fell to the ground, sprawling into the grass.

  Tyler shoved the dog into Oliver’s arms and hobbled to her, his legs too numb to function well, the waterlogged boots slowing him down.

  The woman tried to rise but couldn’t. Instead she crawled, whimpering, “Dove, Dove.”

  “We got him. Don’t worry!” Tyler called to her. “Your dog’s safe.” He reached her side and, without waiting for permission, crouched down and put his arms around her. “We’ve got him. He’s safe,” he repeated.

  Her gaze went beyond him, to Oliver who’d sunk to the ground, no doubt because the blanket-wrapped animal was too heavy to carry.

  “See,” Tyler said, looking down into violet eyes, dazed as if she couldn’t absorb the news.

  “Thank you,” she mumbled, almost sobbing out the words.

  Tyler took a deep breath, tightened his stomach muscles, and lifted her. He carried her to Oliver, knelt, setting her next to his son, but he kept an arm around her thin shoulders.

  “My baby!” She gathered the dog to her body. “I thought I’d lost you.” She kissed the top of the animal’s head. “This was all my fault.”

  Dove whined and gave his mistress a feeble tongue lick.

  When the woman looked at Tyler again, her eyes shone with unshed tears. “Thank you. Thank you.”

  Something about those tears, the look of gratitude on her face, touched a place in his heart that had hardened when his wife left.

  “I got him the blanket,” Oliver piped up.

  She sent the boy a tenuous smile. “What a smart boy you are.”

  Oliver pointed. “It was really Pa’s idea.”

  She relaxed against him. “How smart you both are. And very courageous.” Although she strove for a light tone, Tyler could hear the tears behind it.

  He liked the feeling of her in his arms, although he suspected the woman didn’t realize she’d leaned into him for comfort. Up close, he could see she was pretty, with a fine-boned, narrow face and long-lashed violet eyes that reminded him of pansies. “I think you’re shaken up, ma’am. Why don’t we get you and
Dove to the fire?”

  She sat upright. Pink tinged her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how wet you are. You must warm yourself lest you become chilled.”

  Tyler shivered from the cold and was glad she wasn’t close enough to notice, although she was shaking, too. “It’s goin’ to take more than a little river water to make me chilled,” he lied.

  He rose to his feet, wincing as the breeze whipped through his wet clothes, then leaned over to take Dove out of her arms.

  Her hesitancy made Tyler suspect she was reluctant to release the dog, but common sense won out, and she relinquished the animal.

  Holding the dog under one arm, he extended a hand to help her up.

  She set her left hand, long-fingered and bare of any rings, in his, and obviously needed his support to rise to her feet.

  He couldn’t help comparing her awkward movements with Laura’s grace. The contrast to the woman who’d abandoned him and Oliver worked in this lady’s favor.

  Once she’d settled on her feet, he didn’t relinquish her hand, suspecting she’d continue to need his strength to walk over the uneven ground. He just hoped his power would continue to hold out. The cold water had sapped his energy, and he was like an engine that’d run out of steam. He wanted nothing more than to sit by the warm fire and dry off.

  Oliver galloped by the lady’s side, babbling out the story of the rescue.

  She nodded and made appropriate encouraging noises.

  They had to walk about a hundred yards before they reached the campfire.

  The dog grew heavier with each step. Once, the creature looked up at him with such trust and gratitude Tyler felt moved. He wasn’t given to keeping pets, working as he did with stock and needing a watchdog to warn off predators, but this animal seemed…almost human somehow.

  Without being prompted, Oliver raced back. He snatched Tyler’s hat off the ground and took it with him. At the fire, the boy grabbed up the spare blanket and shook it out.

  Good thing we brought extras. I thought we might get wet. They’d left saddle blankets spread in front of the fire, and Tyler guided the lady to one and helped her sit, and then wrapped a blanket around her. He handed the dog to her, and sank gratefully onto Domino’s blanket, allowing Oliver to drape the big one he held over his shoulders. “Thank you, son.”

  The lady vigorously toweled off the dog. When she ceased her efforts, he could see a very wet spaniel. She wrapped the blanket around the dog and pulled him back into her arms.

  Tyler yanked off his boots, turned them over to dump out the water, propped them by the fire, then extended his hands and feet toward the welcome warmth. He gave the lady a sideways glance.

  She looked at his feet, consternation on her pretty face.

  Self-conscious, Tyler glanced back at his toes to check for any holes in his stockings, but felt relieved to see they looked decent. Not that his cook and housekeeper, Mrs. Pendell, would leave any undarned stockings in his drawer. But she often complained about how hard he was on his clothes, and a hole might have popped up between the time he pulled them on and now.

  “I’m so very grateful to you,” the lady said in a low voice, with just the hint of a tremor. “You’ve saved my dog, and now you’re wet and cold…”

  With an effort, Tyler tried to control his shivers but wasn’t sure he succeeded. To change the subject, he introduced himself and Oliver, explaining that she’d found herself on his land.

  “Oh, forgive me my manners,” she exclaimed. “I’m Lily Maxwell, and my sweet little girl here is Dove.”

  Tyler reached over and rubbed the dog’s head. “We’ve been calling her a him.” Another batch of shivers shook him. He could feel his teeth start to chatter. “I think we need to forego our trout dinner, Oliver, and get back to the house. We’ll get Dove dry.” And me too.

  “No need, Pa,” Oliver said, his eyes alight with eagerness. “We’ll bring the trout with us, and Mrs. Pendell can cook them on the stove.”

  Tyler laughed and ruffled Oliver’s brown hair. “We’ll send Hank back to get them. We first need to see to Miss Maxwell’s comfort.”

  “Yes, Pa.”

  Tyler wasn’t sure how he felt about bringing a woman to his home. But he had no choice. He certainly couldn’t leave her here.

  ~ ~ ~

  Lily let the conversation flow over her. She squeezed Dove to her chest, more grateful than she’d ever felt to have her dear baby in her arms. I love you so much, and I almost lost you.

  Even though she knew Dove was safe, Lily couldn’t recover from the horror of the experience. Inside she still trembled. If she’d been alone, she would have burst into deep sobs. Instead she suppressed them, striving to appear as if all was well.

  She realized Tyler had fallen silent, and two pairs of gray eyes stared at her. The man had rugged features, and the boy took after him.

  “Amazing how life can change in a moment,” she told them, trying to convey what she was feeling. “I was perfectly happy, enjoying the day. Then Dove chased a bird off a rock and fell into the water… If I’d lost her, especially through my own carelessness, I’d have been haunted by her death. I would never forgive myself and would have grieved for her for a long time. Maybe always.”

  Lily braced herself for the it’s just a dog comment that would likely follow. People, especially men, didn’t love their dogs like she loved Dove.

  Mr. Dunn gave a thoughtful nod. “I had something like that happen to me when I was only a few years older than this little shaver here.” He ruffled his son’s hair.

  “What happened?”

  I don’t think I can tell you that story, ma’am. I’ll bawl like a baby.” His voice sounded teasing, but the pain in his eyes was very real.

  He does understand.

  The shared moment lingered between them.

  With reluctance, Lily looked away to break the tenuous connection.

  “Miss Maxwell?”

  She glanced back at him.

  “My house isn’t far from here. We’ll bring you back with us. Let my housekeeper fuss over you.”

  He didn’t mention a wife.

  “Do you have a horse?”

  Lily repressed a shudder at the thought. “No. Pepe from the livery stable picked me up from Mrs. Murphy’s, drove me here in the surrey, and dropped me off.”

  “He left you here alone?”

  At the sound of his disapproving tone, she lifted her chin. “Of course.”

  “Is Pepe picking you up?” Mr. Dunn must have recognized he was treading on dangerous ground, for his tone sounded milder.

  She lowered her chin. “Yes, at three o’clock.”

  Tipping back his head, he glanced at the sun. “I’ll send one of my hands to town to let him know where you are, and that I’ll drive you back.”

  “Thank you, you’re quite kind.”

  Mr. Dunn pulled his boots on and stood, grimacing. “We’d best get back to the house and warm up.” He stood, picked up the saddle blanket and strode toward the pinto.

  Lily dropped a kiss on Dove’s wet head, and then set her on the ground. “Stay.”

  Dove didn’t try to wiggle out of the blanket.

  When Lily looked up, Mr. Dunn had saddled the horse and returned to where she sat. He extended his hand.

  She placed her hand in his and started to rise. But her leg hitched, the pain in her hip worse than it had been in a long time. She gasped and sank back down.

  He crouched down by her. “Are you hurt?”

  She tried to smile in reassurance, hating to talk about her lameness. “An old injury. Broken leg and hip. When I tripped, I wrenched it.”

  As he glanced from her to his horse, a frown wrinkled his brow. “This isn’t going to be easy, Miss Maxwell. Getting you on my horse…riding to the house…is going to cause you pain.”

  “Oh, no. I can’t possibly get on a horse!” The fear, which had started to ease from Lily’s body, tightened her muscles again. “I’ll wait here for Pepe.”
>
  “You can’t stay here.” He gave a pointed look at her dress.

  Lily became aware of the breeze blowing through her wet garments and shivered. If I’m freezing, he must be cold too. But even with the knowledge of how much she owed him, she couldn’t bring herself to mount his horse.

  “You and Dove need to get warm.”

  Lily glanced at Dove, and her stomach knotted.

  The dog shivered under the blanket, misery in her brown eyes, instead of her usual happy expression.

  I can’t. Lily bit her lip and shook her head, not daring to make eye contact.

  Mr. Dunn made an exasperated sound. “Why?”

  Lily made herself tell him the shameful truth. “Because I’m afraid. No,” she forced out the truth, “terrified!”

  His brow creased, and he looked at her, his eyes puzzled. “Terrified? Of me?”

  “Oh, not you, Mr. Dunn.”

  He gave an impatient shake of his head. “Call me Tyler.”

  She wet her lips. “My accident was caused by a fall from a horse.”

  “Ah.” He rocked back on his heels. “I promise not to let anything happen to you.” He stopped. “Well, not more than you already have experienced. I won’t deny getting you on and off that horse will hurt, but… Will you trust me, Miss Maxwell?”

  After what they’d just been through, the familiar address sounded right. She pointed back and forth to the space between them. “Lily. If you’re Tyler, I’m Lily.”

  “All right, then.”

  She shrugged. “I’m used to pain, Mr…Tyler.”

  Tyler held out his hand. “Trust me, Lily.”

  Slowly, she extended her hand and slid her fingers into his. His hand was cold, but the squeeze he gave her felt warm.

  “I’m going to put my other hand under your arm and pull you to your feet. Ready?”

  Lily braced herself, and when he lifted, she pushed herself to her feet, biting back a groan at the fiery stab of pain.

  His arm slipped back to steady her. “Is it always this bad?”

  She leaned against him, grateful for his strength. “Running after Dove, the fall…jarred me. I’ll be all right in a few days.” If I stay bedridden. Although she could hardly say so to a man. But I can’t, Lily realized, despair making her weak. I need to paint the flowers before the deadline.