Debra Holland (35 page)

Uncle Ant looked relieved. He held out his hand to David.

David stepped away from Miss Stanton and took his uncle’s hand.
Maybe I don’t have a good pa, but I sure do have a good uncle.
He eased his hand into Miss Stanton’s. “Let’s go home.”

Pepe arrived and took Chester’s reins. He led the gelding and the mule to the barn.

The three of them walked toward the house, David sandwiched between the adults. For the first time, he felt like part of a family and wished they could always be this way.

They separated to go through the front door. David led the way to the kitchen. He walked over to the stove, pried opened the round cast iron cover, and fished out the book. Although it had some streaks of ash on the leather cover, it wasn’t ruined.

“Good thing I cleaned out the stove today, and David and I became so engrossed in his mother’s book that I hadn’t started supper.” Miss Stanton said. She walked over to the sink, moving stiffly like she hurt, and picked up the dishcloth. “Here, David, let me wipe that off.” She gave the book a careful cleaning and handed it back to him.

David laid the book on the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. “Let’s read it together.”

His uncle gave him a crooked grin. “That sounds like a very good idea, Davy boy. A very good idea. But first, Miss Stanton needs to lie down and rest. You and I are going to make her some willow bark tea and scrape together some supper.” He grinned at her. “I hope you like beans, my lady.”

Although her face didn’t change, probably because it pained her to move, her eyes twinkled at his uncle, and she gave a tiny nod.

And in that moment, seeing the connection between the two of them, David knew everything was going to be all right.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

A few nights later, Ant and Harriet walked outside, hand-in-hand. By unspoken accord, they headed toward the stream. In the days since Lewis’ attack, their bruises had turned green and yellow; the killer had been interred in the plot behind the church; and David had taken to talking up a storm.

The faint moonlight cast just enough light to follow the path that the Maguires had trod into the dirt over the years. Under the trees, it was nearly black with just the sound of the rustling leaves and rushing water to tell them where they were.

They spoke of Ant’s new building, already begun, and Harriet’s attempt to make David a new shirt. Commonplace topics, but all the time an awareness of each other’s presence shimmered between them.

They stopped at the stream’s edge near the flat boulder, where the trees parted and the moon-glow showed on the milky bubbles, dancing over the silky black water. A night breeze, fragrant with earth and greenery, wafted over them.

Ant stared at the water. “I’ve been an angry man, Harriet. Angry enough to kill. But when all is said and done, I’m glad I didn’t have to. I’m not sure what to do about the anger though. I think it’s still there.”

“Of course it is. Lewis’ death doesn’t erase your feelings about your sister’s murder.”

He let out a long, slow breath.

“I suggest you take some paper and a pen and write the story about what happened, including your feelings. I know that works for me. I haven’t had anyone to talk to for a long time, so all my feelings have spilled out in my journal. I think it’s the only thing that has helped me keep my temper with the Cobbs.”

“I’ll give it a try. Probably end up writing a book, though.”

“Is that so bad, Fuddy Duddy Professor?”

He grinned at her. “Not any more. I reckon I could stand a dose of fuddy duddy after the excitement of the last weeks. But my anger was about more than Lewis murdering my sister and kidnapping David. It started before...in Europe with a woman named Isabella, whom I loved.”

Harriet’s heart clenched at his words.

Ant proceeded to tell her the whole story.

The story stirred her compassion. Harriet leaned against him. “Thank you for telling me.”

He dropped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “I never told anyone before. It actually felt good...good to remember...without the pain.”

Harriet looked up at him. “I don’t love Nick Sanders.”

His body stiffened, and he slowly turned to face her. “What do you mean?”

“I did love him. Or thought I did. He made me feel safe, and I needed that. After my father died, we moved around a lot...stayed in some...rough places. All I wanted was stability and security. But I started to feel differently a few weeks ago. It’s only lately that I realized my feelings had changed.”

“Different how?”

“I still want stability and security, but not with Nick.” She looked up at him, hoping the moon’s glow showed him the love in her eyes.

“Harriet.” Still holding her hand, Ant dropped to one knee. “Will you marry me? Not because of Lewis. He’s finally dead and out of our lives. I love you, Harriet. You don’t know what a miracle that is. Perhaps, with time, you can come to love me back.”

As Harriet absorbed his words, joy flooded her, and she laughed. “Too late.”

“What?”

“I already love you.”

Ant flashed her that crooked grin and picked her up, twirling her around.

She let out a little scream and held him tight.

“Guess we haven’t had a normal courtship, have we?”

She laughed. “We certainly haven’t. Do you think we can manage a more comfortable married life?”

“I certainly hope so,” he said fervently.

With her arms draped around his neck, Ant carried her over to the boulder and set her feet on the surface, holding her waist until she could stand on her own.

Now she was almost his height. He looked into her eyes. “Guess I’m always going to look for things to set you on so I can kiss you right.”

“You can make stools for me all over the house,” Harriet murmured, leaning forward to press her lips on his.
 

* * *

A week later, Harriet stood in the Cobbs’ kitchen, wearing the first silk dress she’d ever owned. Mrs. Cobb, as happy as Harriet had ever seen her, bent down to straighten the misty-gray folds of her skirt, while Samantha Thompson, clad in the dress she’d worn to her own wedding, placed her own veil over Harriet’s head, then stepped back to survey Harriet, tears brightening her blue eyes. “You look beautiful, my dear Harriet. This color really brings out your eyes.”

Harriet had to blink answering tears away. “Thank you for lending me your veil.”

“Enough, Harriet,” Samantha said in a firm tone. “You’ve already thanked me three times. I know it’s only been a week and a day for me, but I wish you all the happiness I’ve found with Wyatt.”

Mrs. Cobb straightened, fluffing out Harriet’s puffed sleeves. In an unexpected gesture of affection, she took Harriet’s hand. “I, too, wish you happy, Miss Stanton. I was hard on you, I know. But it was because I was concerned about you. A woman’s good reputation is above jewels.”

Harriet exchanged an astonished look with Samantha. She couldn’t help glancing out the window to see if any pigs happened to be flying by, but the sky remind clear of porcine creatures with wings.

Mrs. Cobb sniffed, as if holding back emotion. “Soon, I’ll be calling you Mrs. Gordon.”

Surprised and touched, Harriet squeezed Mrs. Cobb’s hand. “Thank you, Mrs. Cobb.”

As if putting sentimentality behind her, Mrs. Cobb released Harriet’s hand. “Mr. Cobb told me that after Mr. Gordon left the meeting of the town leaders, the men all had a bet that he’d marry you before school started again. That’s why they didn’t protest more about you living together.”

“A bet!” Harriet wasn’t sure whether to feel horrified or amused.

Mrs. Cobb sniffed again. “Not really a bet because they were all in accord, so there was no one to bet against. Mr. Cobb swore me to secrecy.”

Harriet settled on amusement. A giggle bubbled up in her, and she could see laughter reflected in Samantha’s eyes. “This town knows me too well.”

Samantha gave her a hug. “Everyone loves you, that’s why.”

Harriet thought back to Ant’s revelation about everyone knowing her feelings for Nick. She gave Samantha a wry smile. “I guess that’s not such a bad thing after all.”

Mrs. Cobb reached for her hat—a new one without a stuffed bird adorning the brim—where it lay on the table and placed it on her head. She tied her bonnet strings. “It’s time to go, Miss Stanton. I watched from the window. Almost everybody is already in the church.” She sniffed. “Seems like everyone and his brother has turned up. Good thing you didn’t marry from a house. Wouldn’t have been anyplace big enough.”

Samantha handed Harriet a bouquet of roses, the same kind of white ones she’d carried for her wedding.

Harriet sniffed their sweet scent.
I’ll have to press one later as a keepsake.

The three women left the house and strolled down the street. As they crossed to the church, Harriet saw Nick and Elizabeth Sanders standing out in front. Samantha and Mrs. Cobb greeted them and continued inside, leaving Harriet with the couple.

Elizabeth was dressed in a sapphire silk gown that allowed the slight bulge of her pregnancy to show and made her eyes look like gems. Nick had on the suit he’d worn for his own wedding, although today he seemed more comfortable in it. The couple looked content and prosperous, and for the first time, Harriet could whole-heartedly wish them every happiness. The realization made her feel light and free.

Nick took her hand, the first time he’d ever touched her, and gave it a quick squeeze before letting go. “I want you to know, Miss Stanton, how very glad I am that Mr. Gordon has had the good sense to chose you for his wife. I wish you all the best.”

“
W
e wish you all the best, Harriet,” Elizabeth chimed in. “May you have as happy a marriage as we do.”

In looking from one to the other, Harriet could see in their eyes that they had known of her feelings for Nick. Today, she didn’t feel shame. Instead, she allowed their genuine good will to seep into her body, twining with her joy. “Thank you. That’s a wonderful blessing, indeed!”

Elizabeth leaned forward to kiss Harriet’s cheek. Then the couple turned and climbed the steps to the church.
 

Harriet touched her cheek, marveling at how much things had changed. She fiddled with the gold pin at her neck.
Elizabeth and I are going to be friends. Who would have thought?

Harriet brought her bouquet to her nose for one last fortifying sniff.
The last time I entered this church for a wedding, I was so very unhappy. Now, I feel as if I could fly.
She giggled at the image of floating down the aisle to her groom.

Harriet gathered her up her skirts to climb the stairs and stepped into the church. As she crossed the small foyer, a hush fell over the room.
 

Everyone turned to see her. She gave David, standing straight and proud next to his uncle, a fond smile, but then she only had eyes for Ant. Her husband-to-be waited tall and dark in the front of the church, wearing a new black suit and vest with a white shirt.

Elizabeth started playing Mendelssohn’s Wedding March.
 

Her heart lifted by the notes of the music, Harriet walked up the aisle, her eyes on Ant. His stunned expression, so full of love and pride, softened the angles of his face, rendering him handsome.

Harriet gave him a tremulous smile and couldn’t wait to reach his side.

 
As she approached him, he took her hand. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, bringing her hand to his lips.

The brush of his mouth on her hand sent shivers up her arm and down her spine. In his eyes, Harriet saw the promise of love for all the years to come.

Ant solemnly gazed into her eyes and gave her his crooked smile.
 

How could I ever have thought him frightening?

Then they turned and faced the minister. Reverend Norton’s austere face softened with a smile of affection. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here....

THE END

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks to all my readers who love the Montana Sky Series.

You have my warmest appreciation!

More thanks go to:

Louella Nelson, my writing teacher and editor.

My copyediting friends: Walter Koenig, Tracy Suttle, and Linda McLaughlin.

To Claire Lazerson for the sailing poem.

To my fabulous formatter, Amy Atwell.

AND

To Don Napolitano who always supports me.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

USA Today bestselling author Debra Holland is a psychotherapist and corporate crisis/grief counselor, who lives in Southern California with her dog and two cats.
Painted Montana Sky
is the latest book in her best-selling
Montana Sky
Series. In addition to sweet historical romance, Debra also writes fantasy, science fiction, as well as nonfiction. Debra has published
The Essential Guide to Grief and Grieving
with Alpha Books. Look for her other fiction and nonfiction books online. You can download her free e-booklet
58 Tips For Getting What You Want From a Difficult Conversation
on her website
http://drdebraholland.com
.