Painted Montana Sky: A Montana Sky Series Novella (9 page)

“Jack Cassidy Thompson.” He pointed to the boy on the horse. “That’s my brother, Tim.”

She nodded to the other twin.

“Now, Miss Maxwell, you just climb into the buggy,” Jack said. “We’ll see how you’ll do.”

Butterflies flew around her stomach.

Tyler stepped forward to hand her into the conveyance. Once she settled in, Jack passed her the reins. “You done any driving, Miss Maxwell?”

“I had a pony cart when I was younger.”

“Then you know just what to do.”

Lily released the brake and gave the reins a little flip.

Chico started forward.

Lily guided him toward the road, and he ambled in the right direction. The padded leather seat was comfortable, and she was tempted to urge Chico to a faster gait, feel the wind on her face as they trotted down the road to explore.

Even at the sedate pace, her heart soared at the thoughtfulness of Tyler’s gift. Lily knew she should rein in her emotions, keep them safely tied up. But she didn’t want to.
Later
, she promised herself.

As much as she wanted to keep on going, Lily turned Chico and headed back toward the house. Shadows purpled in the fading light.

Tyler and the two boys walked to the road to meet her. Tim remained on his horse.

She reined in next to them, grinning. “He’s wonderful!”

Jack touched his hat. “Seeing that you’re doing well, Miss Maxwell, Tim and I will git on home before the light’s completely gone.” He rubbed Chico’s nose. “You behave for Miss Maxwell, hear?”

“Thank you, boys, and tell your mother I appreciate the loan of Chico.” Lily resolved to make sure she gifted the family with one of her drawings as a thank you.

Jack mounted the buckskin, and the boys turned their mounts in the direction of the town.

Tyler waited, his hand on Chico’s shoulder. “You head to the barn, Lil. I’ll pack up everything for you and bring it to the house.”

“Tyler, I can’t thank you enough.”

He waved away her words, but she could see by his pleased expression that he’d heard them. He touched her hand. “Have you noticed, Lil, that you’re not in the least bit afraid of this little fella?”

Shocked, Lily stared at him. “You’re right. I didn’t even think of that. I was nervous about getting into the buggy, but only because it was a new experience.” For a moment, she had a glimpse of freedom from the fear that effectively crippled her as much as her damaged hip had. Then the old memory grabbed her mind and smacked aside her joy.

She experienced the sensation of falling, a stomach-lifting, heart-seizing feeling of sailing through the air, only to land with a bone-breaking thud. She had to stare at Chico’s withers to make the image go away.

Tyler must have seen something on her face, for his brow wrinkled. His hand curled around hers. “I’m sorry, Lily. I should have kept that thought to myself.”

Lily shook her head. “No, it’s all right.”
But you reminded me of why I can’t fall in love with you.
She flipped the reins to break their contact.

Chico started forward.

Tyler let her go.

“I’ll see you at the barn,” she tossed the words over her shoulder. With a sigh, she settled back into the seat. Thank goodness, she didn’t feel afraid of Chico. But with the spell broken, her sense of freedom and excitement had fled, leaving her feeling drained.

~ ~ ~

On the evening of the ice cream social, Lily lingered in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom at the ranch. She wore a grape-colored silk dress that made her eyes look darker and had pinned an amethyst and gold bow pin to the lace that edged the round neckline. A matching bracelet surrounded her wrist.

If she didn’t move, Lily looked like any other healthy young woman—more attractive, perhaps, than some. But Lily wasn’t vain about her looks. If she could, she’d trade a healthy hip and pelvis and the ability to have children for a plain countenance.

She took a step back, and her ugly limp shattered the image of the pretty girl. That was why, in her room at home, Lily only had a round mirror over her dressing table. Then she never had to see the reflection of her lower limbs.

Lily knew the others waited for her to join them. For the last five minutes, the low murmur of voices from the main room had penetrated the wood walls. But she didn’t move to leave the room. The dread growing in her stomach weighed her down and made her cling to the safety of her solitude.

At home, she attended church and had a small group of friends who were all very familiar with her affliction and paid her limp no mind. But strangers stared. Strangers asked nosy questions. Strangers gossiped. She didn’t want to go to the ice cream social and be around people she didn’t know, forced into uncomfortable interactions.

Lily wished she could be more like her middle sister. But even without an injured hip, she didn’t have Sophia’s self-confidence and dramatic beauty, the affects of which blazed forth when Sophia swept on stage or into a drawing room. From babyhood, Sophia had possessed that magical sparkle and had adoring fans by the time she could toddle.

Wishing for her two sisters made Lily feel a pang of homesickness. If Sophia were here, she’d draw all the attention, leaving Lily safely in her shadow. And the youngest, Emma, would cosset and support her—the role she’d taken on ever since Lily’s accident.

She tried to take a deep breath to bolster her courage, but the constricting lacings of her corset stymied the attempt. Another thing she hated about dressing up—tying her corset tighter.

With a sigh, Lily picked up a lace-edged handkerchief scented with lavender and tucked the wisp of material in her cuff. With no further excuse to linger, she forced herself to open the door and move into the other room, doing her best to walk evenly.

Mrs. Pendell stood next to her husband at the hearth, her hand tucked into Habakkuk’s arm. Both wore black, Habakkuk in a homemade suit and Mrs. Pendell in imposing cashmere. Aaron and Hank stood off to the side of the settee, wearing clean, starched shirts under striped vests. They carried their hats in hand, their hair slicked back.

Oliver and his father wore matching gray shirts, although Tyler also had on a black suit. Lily had a sudden urge to paint them together.

At her entrance, everyone turned to look. To her relief, she saw only kindness on their faces. Except for Tyler. He had an admiring look in his eyes that Lily had never seen directed her way, although she’d witnessed the like all too often when Sophia made an appearance in front of males of any age.

A glow rushed through Lily’s body, sending heat into her cheeks. A wave of feminine power swept through her, making her feel beautiful. She took a step forward, forgetting to be careful of her leg. The resulting dip in her stride snuffed out the warmth and settled a knot in her stomach. Once again, she was awkward, afflicted Lily.

Tyler extended his arm. “You look lovely, Lily.”

When she didn’t respond, he glanced around at the other men. “Doesn’t she, gentlemen?”

They all nodded.

Habakkuk cleared his throat. “Reminds me of my dear wife.” His seamed face creased in a smile. He patted Mrs. Pendell’s hand. “When we were courting. Although you’re just as beautiful now, my dear.”

Color sailed into Mrs. Pendell’s cheeks. She gave her husband a flirtatious sweep of her eyelashes and squeezed his arm.

Lily doubted, with the woman’s wooly hair and bulldog chin, that Mrs. Pendell had ever been beautiful. But in her husband’s eyes she was.
And isn’t that what matters?
She felt a stir of envy.

I won’t have a lifetime, but I have this week.
Lily resolved to enjoy every single minute—to make memories that she could hug to herself in the lonely days and nights to come.

Beginning now.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Tyler carefully escorted Lily up the steps into the schoolhouse. Knowing he’d be the envy of many men tonight, a sense of pride in his pretty companion made him straighten his shoulders and hold his head high.

Perhaps it was too early in the year for ice cream, but after a Montana winter, the citizens of Sweetwater Springs needed an excuse for entertainment. And in the spring, they still had plenty of ice. Dairy farmers, such as Erik Muth and Paul Mead contributed the cream, and many housewives had donated the berry sauces to go on top. For the first time in ages, Tyler looked forward to socializing.

Once inside, everyone shed their outer gear, throwing them on the pegs bored into the back wall, already piled with coats. Lanterns hanging on hooks in the ceiling beams cast a soft light on the people, many holding bowls of ice cream. The smell of sugar and vanilla filled the air. The sounds of conversations and grinding from the ice cream makers mixed in a pleasant buzz. Most of the tables the students used as desks had been removed to make space for everyone to stand. Some benches lined the right side of the room and those near the stove had already filled with the elderly needing to keep their bones warm.

Oliver immediately ran off with his friends. Mrs. Pendell towed Habakkuk over to a corner where some of the men turned the handles of the ice-cream makers set on the remaining tables. Nearby, several women dished the frozen treat into bowls and handed them out to a line of waiting people.

An apprehensive look crossed Lily’s face, and her hand tightened on his arm.

“Everyone’s friendly, darlin’,” Tyler drawled. “I’ll introduce you to some good people.”

Across the room, Samantha Thompson, standing with her rancher husband, saw Tyler, and gestured for him to bring Lily to join the conversation the couple was having with Nick and Elizabeth Sanders.

Tyler touched Lily’s arm to lead her over.

Tall Wyatt Thompson had his arm protectively around Samantha, while Nick Sanders kept his hand on the small of his wife’s back. Blond-haired, blue-eyed Elizabeth Sanders still wore the radiant look she’d possessed ever since her marriage. She carried a little more weight in her face and body from her recent pregnancy, but the extra pounds only added a maternal look to her regal beauty. The couple didn’t have their daughter with them. Tyler wondered if Elizabeth fretted about being parted from her baby, or if, like Laura, she had been eager for time away from a demanding infant.

He introduced the couples to Lily.

Quick to welcome her, Samantha Thompson launched into a discussion about art, obviously seeking to give Lily a comfortable topic of conversation, as well as to help her make a connection with Elizabeth Sanders.

After a few minutes, the two husbands excused themselves to bring their wives some ice cream.

Tyler stepped out of the conversation but stayed close enough to keep an eye on Lily. Not that watching the three most attractive women in Sweetwater Springs was any hardship.

While Lily’s delicate loveliness wasn’t as dramatic as the striking beauty of the other two women, to him she had more appeal. He could have observed her for hours.

With a smile and an invitation to Lily to come visit at her ranch, Mrs. Thompson left the conversation and headed over to her children, who’d joined the line for ice cream.

Sanders returned with two dishes, handed one to his wife and one to Lily, and vanished back into the crowd.

Tyler could see Lily and Mrs. Sanders becoming instant friends, bonding over painting. He enjoyed watching Lily’s apprehensive expression change to one of animation, making her prettier than ever. Satisfied that his guest was in good hands, he drifted away, relieved she’d made a new friend.

Tyler had wanted to acquire one of Nick Sanders’s mares for quite a while, and now might be a good time to talk. He tracked the man through the crowd and cornered him near the teacher’s desk. The two settled into a conversation covering ranching matters. They did some negotiating and struck a deal, shaking hands on the sale of a mare.

With a feeling of satisfaction, Tyler turned from the rancher, searching for Lily. She wasn’t with Mrs. Sanders, and he scanned along the walls, expecting to find her sitting down. Then burley Phineas O’Reilly stepped aside from a group of men in the middle of the room, and he saw her.

Lily held a bowl of ice cream she didn’t have a chance to eat because amorous swains surrounded her, vying for her attention.

Realizing he had rivals, Tyler glowered toward the men around Lily, who sparkled like a jewel in the midst of pebbles.
 
How did things get out of my control?

Jealously stabbed him, and he disliked the feeling. He’d never had that reaction with Laura. But the loss of his wife had taught him a rustler could poach on another’s marital territory, and a wife could forsake her vows and stray. The knowledge made a man more vigilant to protect what was his.
Not that Lily’s mine,
Tyler hastily assured himself.
I have no need of a wife.

But over the past few days, his former resistance had waned. In that moment, he realized that perhaps he did want a wife—this particular wife. But thinking about marrying churned an uneasy feeling in his belly.

His thoughts picked up speed.
What if Laura left me…us…because I wasn’t enough of a husband to hold her?
It wasn’t the first time he’d pondered that question. Probably wouldn’t be the last. But the concern had extra importance now; made him realize that fighting for and winning Lily’s love might cause him more pain in the end. Tyler wasn’t sure whether to back off or lasso the woman to his side.