A Late-Blooming Rose: A Montana Sky Series Novel

by Debra Holland

  “Marty always complained about not being able to sit and read at our library. He wasn’t the only one. I often came upon a patron standing in the aisle, his or her nose in a book. Most uncomfortable.”

  “I’m sure you know the discomfort from personal experience,” he teased.

  “Perhaps.” She reached up to rub her neck, remembering days of sore muscles from that very position. “Marty would be so pleased to be remembered in this way. I’m so pleased.”

  “I’m glad,” he said in a low voice, his expression tender. He leaned back over the drawings. “This is another reading nook.” He traced the lines to the opposite side of the building. “I want to name it the Rose Ellen Collier room, after our first librarian.”

  She drew a shocked breath, humbled by the honor.

  “I want comfortable chairs patterned in rose chintz. Unless, of course, you’d prefer some other fabric.” Andre rushed on. “Here’s a study area for students. A big table. Maybe two.”

  “Definitely two or three,” Rose said firmly to belie the shakiness she felt about his announcement. “We only had two at my library in New York and could have used four. Not having reading areas forced people to use the table, making them more crowded than if we’d had comfortable chairs in secluded nooks.”

  “Then three we shall have,” Andre said, his tone gallant. “Let me make a note.” He moved to the desk, opened the ledger, dipped the pen in ink, and scribbled a few words.

  “Perhaps, also, a few desk cubbies for students who need more solitude.”

  “Good idea.” He wrote down her suggestion.

  “How many books will the library hold, do you suppose?”

  Andre looked up. “I’m thinking twenty-two hundred to three thousand.” He left the ledger open, tucked away the pen, and walked back to the table.

  Ambitious for a fledgling library but doable within a few years. “That’s about what we had. Two thousand, eight hundred, and seventy-three to be precise. At least that was the number when I worked there. The count’s probably different now.” She thought of Jimmy Ortner and her other favorite patrons and experienced a pang of missing them. Before leaving New York, she’d stopped by the library with Andre’s address.

  Perhaps, I’ll hear from Jimmy or my other protégés. She made a mental note to write a letter to Mr. Nicklesby-Ward as soon as she had some time.

  Andre shifted the drawings until they were back in order. “Tomorrow, when you’ve had a chance to settle in, if you’d like, we can go over the plans in more detail. I’ll also take you to see the job site. If you have more ideas, there’s still time to change the blueprints. Elton Reid, the architect, returns to Sweetwater Springs next week.”

  Reluctant to stop their discussion, Rose was about to object when through the open door came the sound of voices.

  Andre cocked his head and grinned. “I believe Joshua and Micah have arrived home.”

  Rose hurriedly exchanged Andre’s spectacles for her own, placing his on the desk.

  Rapid thudding footsteps sounded, and Andre held up a finger. “That will be my grandson,” he said, with an indulgent glance toward the doorway. “No matter how much we, or rather his parents, chide Micah, when that boy’s excited, he moves through the house like a galloping horse.” He dipped his finger several times as if counting out a beat. “Now.”

  A boy raced through the doorway, still carrying his schoolbooks tied up in a strap, wearing a blue cap on his head. He had intelligent, azure eyes and windswept mink-brown hair. “Grand-père, there’s news!”

  Andre reached over and plucked off the cap. “News can wait until you make your bow to Miss Collier.”

  With a bob of his head, Micah greeted her. “Ma’am—” the boy rattled off “—welcome to Sweetwater Springs—” he turned to grab Andre’s arm. “The posse’s back! They’ve caught the bad guys! Everyone’s safe!” He paused for breath.

  With a thunderstruck expression, Andre placed a hand over his heart, his face paling. He closed his eyes, and his shoulders caved. He gasped for air.

  Rose glanced at Andre, her stomach tight, not knowing if she should go to him and concerned that good news would bring on such a reaction. Then again, he has been carrying a great weight of guilt and fear. Surely that combination can’t be good for a man who’s had a heart attack.

  Before Rose could move closer, a man entered. Probably the Reverend Joshua Norton she suspected from the resemblance to Micah.

  After one look at Andre, in two strides the minister reached his side and took his arm. “Micah, bring a glass of water,” he ordered. “Do you need your medication?”

  Medication? Rose inhaled a sharp breath.

  Andre waved a hand. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” His voice sounded strained. “Just a bit shocked, is all. In a good way.” He straightened. “Had to send up a quick thanks to the Almighty.”

  Micah dropped his books, ran around the desk, and seized the pitcher, pouring a glass. More slowly, the boy brought the water over and handed the drink to Andre.

  He sipped.

  With relief, Rose watched the color return to his face.

  “You’re sure everyone’s all right?” Andre asked, his tone anxious.

  “I’ve just come from the parsonage. My parents already met with Sheriff Granger and Deputy Red Wolf, and I have some unexpectedly good news arising from this tragedy that will tickle your fancy. Come into the parlor, and I’ll tell everyone at the same time.”

  The minister flashed Rose a warm smile. “In case you haven’t guessed, I’m Joshua Norton, and you must be the long-awaited Miss Collier. You and your niece are most welcome in our home, in our town.” After a studied glance at Andre, Joshua touched Rose’s arm and extended a hand toward the doorway, obviously ushering her from the room.

  Rose wanted to linger, making sure Andre was really as fine as he claimed to be. But she was just a guest here and had no right to any but the shallowest concerns about her host.

  Reluctantly, she allowed herself to be guided away from him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Andre waited until Rose followed Joshua from the room before he slipped the small bottle of digitalis from his pocket, pulled off the top, and popped a pill into his mouth, washing it down with more water. First came a wave of dizziness, then a painful stricture closed off his breathing.

  Always frightening. Today, he supposed, with Rose’s arrival and being near her, topped by news of the robbers, had been a bit too much.

  Once he swallowed, he allowed himself to feel the tremendous relief Joshua’s news brought him. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Lord!

  Micah watched him with an anxious expression.

  Seeing the fear in the boy’s eyes gave Andre a pang. He wished his weak heart didn’t worry his loved ones so. He’d do anything to spare his family the pain of watching him slowly die. “I’m all right, mon fils. Truly, I am.” He fisted his hand to his chest. “Just the good news gave the old ticker a wallop, is all.” He dropped an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Come on. I’m anxious to hear your father’s story of our victorious posse.”

  As Micah had done before when Andre felt shaky, when they walked down the hallway the boy remained close and offered his shoulder for him to lean on. He availed himself of the offer for a bit, giving himself a chance to catch his breath, but straightening when they approached the parlor, not wanting Rose to see additional signs of his debilitation.

  When they didn’t have company, the family tended to use one corner of the double parlor with two wing-backed chairs adjacent to the sofas along the wall near the fireplace, and a butler’s table between them. The balloon-back chairs scattered throughout the room could be easily moved to accommodate guests.

  Delia perched on the edge of one of the sofas, hands clasped on her lap as if to contain her excitement, her expression more animated than he’d seen all week.

  Cora, who’d pulled her wet hair into a bun and wore a fresh dress, sat next to her.

  Micah leapt tow
ard Delia, and then apparently remembering his manners, slowed to drop to the sofa on her other side. But his body quivered in obvious eagerness to hear the story.

  Joshua pulled over one balloon-backed chair between the sofa and the wingback chairs, then gestured for Rose to take a place. Then he sat in his usual wingback chair.

  Andre pulled his own chair to an angle where he could observe everyone, especially Rose, and took a seat. His heartbeat slowly calmed.

  Leaning forward, Joshua rested his elbows on his legs in a comfortable position. “First of all, praise be to God that everyone in our posse is alive, and the whole outlaw gang was killed, except for the leader who’s been captured.

  Delia unclasped her hands. “Were any of our people hurt?”

  Joshua straightened and frowned. “Two men. Buck Skold, one of the Thompson ranch hands, took a bullet to his arm. Brian Bly, who lives at Three-Bend Lake, was shot in the leg. Both received medical attention and are resting comfortably at Seth and Trudy Flanigan’s house, although they are anxious to return home.”

  The Flanigans? How did the posse end up there? But Andre didn’t want to interrupt Joshua to ask.

  “Everyone except Buck and Brian and the two doctors returned to town today. Dr. Angus will remain at the Flanigans with the injured men for a few days and then drive them back to Sweetwater Springs. Dr. Rawlins will return here tomorrow for his family and escort them back to Morgan’s Crossing. Well, the day after that is Sunday. So perhaps everyone from Morgan’s Crossing will drive home on Monday.”

  Delia let out a big breath. “Maggie Temogen will be ecstatic at the news that her husband’s safe. What relief she must be feeling! She was so worried about Sheriff Temogen. Bearing up like a trooper, of course. But I could tell how anxious she was.” She smiled at Andre. “Tomorrow, we’ll have to call upon her and the others from Morgan’s Crossing.”

  “What do you know of the gang?” Andre asked.

  “Frank McCurdy was the outlaws’ ringleader. He owns a spread out by the Flanigans. Growing up, I knew him somewhat from the times his family came to town for church, shopping, and other events. His parents were good people, but Frank was….” Joshua hesitated, apparently searching for the kind of negative descriptive word a man of God could use. “Unpleasant.”

  Andre couldn’t recall the man. Eyebrows raised, he made eye contact with Delia.

  She shook her head and shrugged.

  “Sheriff Granger reported McCurdy left town about ten years ago, and no one knew he’d returned with a wife and three children, not even Seth and Trudy. His gang dug in, constructing a stockade around the ranch buildings. Somehow, they avoided discovery in the past year or so, even though they’ve done some stealing here and there. The place was practically a fort.”

  Andre reached over to poke Joshua’s shoulder. “What about that unexpectedly good news? Something, you said, that will tickle my fancy?”

  His son-in-law broke into a grin. “Goes to show how God can make unforeseen benefits come out of tragedy.” He paused for dramatic effect, meeting the gaze of each listener.

  What benefits?

  “You’ll never guess who’s getting married this afternoon in a small ceremony at the parsonage?” Still grinning, Joshua leaned back and apparently waited for their answers.

  Delia looked at Andre, her eyes wide, and shook her head. “Certainly not Caleb Livingston and Maggie Baxter. Their wedding is already planned and will be quite an elaborate affair.”

  Andre tried to think who else was courting or betrothed. “Can’t be Constance Taylor and Dr. Angus. You said the doctor’s still at the Flanigans’.” He shrugged, stumped by the question.

  His son-in-law smirked. “Think of the posse members.”

  Posse members?

  Exhaling a sigh, Delia threw up her hands. “Joshua, stop teasing and tell us!”

  Her husband’s eyes danced, and his grin widened. “Sheriff Granger and Deputy Red Wolf.”

  Delia made a sound of shocked surprise, and then lifted a hand to cover her mouth.

  Our lawwoman and our blacksmith! Andre felt a smile split his face. “Well, that’s certainly unexpected. But now that I think of those two together, I can see they’d make a good match. Not many men would respect their wife holding the sheriff’s position in this town.” He glanced at Rose and saw her eyebrows were pulled into a frown, obviously trying to follow the news of people she didn’t know. “Deputy Red Wolf is also the town’s blacksmith,” he explained. “He’s a Blackfoot Indian and is well respected.”

  “Father tells me they are adopting a boy—the youngest son of Frank McCurdy. Walter McCurdy is a bit younger than Micah.” Joshua looked at his son. “Walter sure could use a friend who understands him. You know what it’s like to lose everything and end up in a new place among strangers.”

  Delia slipped an arm around Micah’s shoulders.

  Shaking his head, Joshua hesitated. “I think Walter’s case is even worse. His father is an evil man, who will soon hang, and his mother doesn’t love him and gave him away to strangers.”

  Micah bounced on the sofa. “I can be Walter’s friend. Think he’d like to play with my slingshot?”

  “I don’t know why not.”

  “Don’t worry about Walter,” Micah said. “Sheriff Granger and Deputy Red Wolf will love him. He’ll have friends. Might take a while like it did with me, but he’ll be all right.”

  Joshua’s eyes glistened with obvious pride. “When did you grow so wise?”

  Micah shrugged, clearly unabashed. “Can’t help it, not with you and Grandpapa and Grandmama and Grand-père around.” The boy grinned up at Delia. “Maman, too.” He crinkled his forehead. “Can’t forget Mrs. Gordon.”

  How nice that Micah included his schoolteacher. Andre couldn’t help a tug of grateful emotion. Ah, mon fils.

  Joshua took out his watch, flicked open the case, checked the time, and grimaced. “There’s much more to the story, but the wedding is in half an hour. Delia and I need to attend. Andre and Micah are expected also.” He cast an apologetic glance from Rose to Cora. “I’m afraid in the excitement of everything, I didn’t remember we were about to have guests. And here, I’ve rudely nattered on about doings unknown to you, without even enquiring about your travels.”

  Cora flapped a pshaw motion. “Goodness, we were just as eager to hear the news. Uncle Andre and Delia already filled us in on the tragic happenings.”

  “Good.” Joshua smiled. “Do you mind if we go without you? The couple specifically wanted a small, simple ceremony.”

  Rose made a shooing motion. “Not at all. I believe a bath and a nap are in order for me. I might even sleep through supper.”

  “A nap sounds splendid,” Cora agreed. “Don’t worry about us one single bit. If we need anything, we can ask Tilda or Rufus.”

  Since Andre, Delia, and Joshua were already dressed for company, and Micah wore his school clothes, none needed to change.

  As everyone left to don their outerwear, Andre remained seated, lingering to absorb the fullness of his gratitude. The posse is safe, Rose and Cora are here. I’m about to attend a wedding of two people I admire. His heart full, he gave a fervent and almost wordless prayer of thanksgiving.

  Andre cast Rose one final glance, reluctant to leave her, and yet not knowing what to say. He could hardly tell her how happy her presence made him. At the same time, seeing her hurt—like a slash to his heart.

  She caught him looking. Her cheeks colored, and she abruptly turned away, seeming determined to focus on something Cora was saying.

  He suppressed a sigh, slowly stood, and left the room. Now the real challenge begins—living with Rose and keeping her at arm’s length.

  * * *

  The next day after everyone finished a breakfast of eggs, sausage, and pancakes covered with fresh butter and maple syrup, they lingered at the table chatting as they sipped their tea or coffee and Micah drank the rest of his milk. They discussed the wedding and the latest news of t
he posse, which dairyman Erik Muth had imparted to the servants when he’d dropped off their morning supply of milk.

  The conversation paused, and Andre sent Rose an expectant glance, liking how she appeared more rested and vibrant than yesterday. “Are you ready to tour the library site?”

  “More than ready.” She folded her napkin and set it beside her plate.

  Andre looked at Cora. “What about you?”

  Cora waved at Delia. “We’re going to call upon Mrs. Temogen and the other women of Morgan’s Crossing. Then we’re going to the Camerons’ so I can meet the doctor and his wife.”

  Joshua smiled at Micah. “You and I are heading out to see Sheriff Granger and Deputy Red Wolf to ask if Walter wants to come here and spend the day playing with you, maybe overnight, as well.”

  Micah’s eyes brightened. “Are we going to the jail?”

  “No, Sheriff Granger has moved into Deputy Red Wolf’s home, so we’re going there.”

  “Can Walter and I play in the park?”

  Joshua hesitated, and then crooked an eyebrow at Andre as if seeking his advice.

  Andre shrugged. “Fine with me. The crew is working today, though.” He glanced at Rose. “I’m paying them to work on Saturdays. Might as well take advantage of the good weather while we have it.” He sent a stern look at Micah. “Stay away from where they’re digging out the library basement. Maman won’t thank me if you fall in and have to be fished out, half-drowned and muddy.”

  “Nor will Walter’s new mother.” Delia chuckled.

  “Hmmm.” Joshua took a sip of his coffee. “I do believe we might have a new form of discipline to consider. Now that Sheriff Granger is a mother, she might be open to tossing young miscreants into the jail for a few hours. More effective then sending you to bed without supper,” he said with a straight-faced look at Micah. But the glint in his eyes gave him away.

  Cora giggled. “I suppose you’ll have to get used to saying Sheriff Red Wolf instead of Sheriff Granger.”