Glorious Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series) (13 page)

Everyone laughed.

Pamela looked at Micah. “I’m Mrs. Carter, Micah, and I have three children.” She tilted her head to study him. “My daughter Sarah is probably closest in age to you. She’s ten.”

Micah puffed out his chest. “I’m nine.”

“I’ll introduce you to her and my twelve-year-old son, Mark. And this one is almost six.” She dropped a hand on the head of her youngest daughter, who’d inched out from behind her mother. “Lizzy’s shy and won’t talk to you for a while.”

Micah surprised them all by sweeping Lizzy a bow. “Miss Lizzy, I’m glad to meet you. Would you like me to fetch you some ice cream?”

Reverend Joshua shook his head as if disbelieving what he’d just seen.

Instead of ducking behind her mother again, Lizzy stayed where she was, staring at Micah with a solemn expression. Then her pink lips turned u
p, and she gave the boy a slight nod.

“Well!” Pamela’s eyes were wide with amazement. “I see your son possesses the Norton charm, Reverend Joshua.”

He choked, but couldn’t completely hide an incredulous expression. “I didn’t realize there was such a thing as ‘Norton charm.’ ”

Oh, there definitely is, and I’ve fallen victim to it.
Delia had never met a minister like Reverend Joshua. Never even heard of one like him. Not that she’d met many, only priests. Weren’t ministers supposed to be stern and humorless? But charm perhaps was the wrong word to describe the man.
Kind, definitely. Intelligent. Educated.
All good ministerial qualities. But there was more to him. Something special that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Maybe because he made
her
feel special, in a way that had nothing to do with her sensual appeal. With a little stab of pain, she wondered if Reverend Joshua was as friendly with all the ladies of the parish as he was with her.

Not that it matters,
Delia scolded herself.
Even if there is an attraction between us, I’m living a lie. I couldn’t possibly expect a minister, of all men, to excuse such a sin. I must put my attraction to him out of my mind.

Reverend Joshua shot his son a look that Delia couldn’t identify.

He waved at hand toward his son. “I will hopefully see many more instances of Micah displaying this hitherto unknown Norton quality.”

Micah shrugged, seemingly unconcerned by their teasing, and took a bite of his ice cream. “It’s melting.” He tipped his head back and forth several times as if trying to decide something. “Don’t know which is better. The melty part or the frozen lump in the middle or the syrup.” He continued eating, his expression showing he was trying to decide.

“Maybe it’s a combination,” Delia suggested, knowing exactly what the boy meant. Ice cream had been a rare and expensive treat in New Orleans. “But I’ll have to try the saskatoon sauce
, too, so I can give you an informed decision.”

He flashed her an impudent grin. “I can get you a bowl just like mine, Miss Delia.”

“Why, Master Micah Norton,” Delia teased in her sweetest Southern drawl. “I’d like that just fine. But you don’t have enough hands to carry yours
and
Lizzy’s. I’ll get one later.”

The boy turned and headed back through the crowd, stopping every few feet to take another spoonful from his bowl.

Reverend Joshua stared after his son. “I think that offer was so Micah can go fill up his own bowl again, as well. I hope he doesn’t make himself sick.”

“Two bowls shouldn’t be too bad,” said Pamela, a voice of maternal authority. “But if he goes for three, then definitely, you’ll have trouble on your hands.”

As Reverend Joshua and Pamela discussed children and eating habits and sickness, Delia glanced around the room. In the few minutes they’d been in conversation, the space had filled further.

Caleb Livingston stepped through the door and looked around, obviously searching for them.

She was just about to nudge Edith to let her know her brother had arrived when she saw the banker stop and stare at a slender, brown-haired woman in a grape-colored gown, standing in the midst of a circle of men.

He watched the woman for a moment, then moved to join her admirers, engaging in the discussion.

Delia couldn’t see the woman’s face.

A question from a man who was dressed like a clerk made the woman turn to answer him. She had a delicate beauty, with lovely lavender eyes made even more vivid by the purple of her dress. The men kept her so busy talking that she didn’t have time to eat the bowl of ice cream she held.

Delia leaned close to Edith. “Who is that lovely lady surrounded by swains? The one in the purple gown whom one your brother is talking with?”

Edith frowned. She searched the crowd to find her brother, then watched with her brows pinched together. “I have no idea. I’ve never seen the woman before.” Her voice dripped with disapproval.

Easing away, she couldn’t imagine why Edith was reacting in such a manner. From the glimpse she’d had of the lady in purple, Delia noticed a pleasing softness about her expression, very unlike many women who were celebrated for their beauty and had the haughty personalities to show for it.

Mrs. Carter leaned closer. “I believe that must be Miss Lily Maxwell. She’s a botanical illustrator staying at the Dunn’s ranch.”

Caleb plucked the bowl from Miss Maxwell’s hands and handed it to one of the cowboys. Then he took the woman’s elbow and firmly guided her out of the schoolhouse.

Miss Maxwell glanced back, her gaze scanning the crowd, obviously searching for someone, before Caleb whisked her out of sight.

Surprised, Delia glanced at the banker’s sister.

Pale with apparent shock, Edith quickly shifted her expression into a polite mask, but an angry flush crept into her cheeks.

Micah’s reappearance with a bowl of ice cream for Lizzy and another full one for himself gave Edith an obvious excuse to draw Delia’s attention away from Caleb’s disappearance with the unknown woman. “Delia, would you like to take Reverend Joshua up on his invitation to fetch us some ice cream now?” Edith’s voice sounded pleasant, but the stiffness of her body betrayed her displeasure with her brother.

Micah handed Lizzy the bowl of ice cream.

The little girl rewarded him with what Delia suspected was a rare smile.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Pamela’s eyebrows rose. “Norton charm, indeed. Perhaps, we should say Norton
magic
.”

Reverend Joshua rolled his eyes.

Delia laughed. “Reverend Joshua, I’m shocked that a minister would make such an expression.” She pulled a frown and, looking down her nose, mimicked the displeasure he should be displaying. “I believe this is a more appropriate expression of a minister’s disapproval.”

“I’m caught out, Miss Delia. I can only plead my long familiarity with my son. Believe me,
charm
is not the word usually used to describe him. The African equivalent to rascal is more common.”

Pamela laughed. “Micah, Lizzy has a birthday coming up and I’d like to invite you to attend her party. I’ll send you an invitation.” She placed one hand on Lizzy’s shoulder and one on Micah’s. “Come along, Micah. You must meet Mark and Sarah and some of the other children, as well.”

Edith gave a little wave to a woman entering the room. “If you’ll excuse me for a few minutes, Delia? I know I can leave you in Reverend Joshua’s capable hands.”

Reverend Joshua started to extend his arm to Delia but dropped it back to his side. “There’s no way to escort you through this mob. I suggest I march through the herd of elephants and you follow close behind me. With luck, we’ll arrive safely at the ice cream encampment.”

Delia was sure her answering smile must have betrayed her pleasure in his company for his gaze lingered on her mouth, making her heart flutter.

Then he waved toward the tables. “Shall we?”

“We shall, indeed.”

He started to step away, then stopped. “If we talk to someone, and I don’t introduce you right away, that means I don’t remember the person’s name. Please rescue me by introducing yourself, and then I’ll apologize for my bad manners in not presenting you earlier.”

“Sounds like the perfect plan for causing the least amount of offense.”

They moved across the room at a snail’s pace, for Reverend Joshua couldn’t take a step before being stopped by people who wanted to introduce themselves, or chat about old times, or bring him up to date about the happenings in their families.

He made Delia known to everyone
, regardless of social strata. In fact, unlike New Orleans with its racial as well as wealth class system, in Sweetwater Springs, there didn’t seem to be much social distinction. Some people were dressed more fashionably than others, but all had made an obvious effort to present a tidy appearance, which she wouldn’t have expected in the Wild West. But then again, this ice cream social might very well be the highlight of the spring season, and the temperature was no longer too cold for people to bathe.

She couldn’t believe the friendliness of the people, the genuine happiness they displayed in having Reverend Joshua returned to them, and the welcome they gave to her as a newcomer. More than once, a person mentioned
they’d prayed for the safety of him and his family over the years. Each time, she could tell the comment made the minister emotional. Then the person would turn to her and say they were praying for her father’s recovery, and it was her turn to choke up. The kindness of strangers. . .Delia put away the thought, planning
to mull over when she had a chance.

Finally, they reached one of the tables, where stood several men, grinding the handles of the ice cream makers. One woman prepared bowls of ice cream and another poured sauce over them.

The one with the sauce was plump, with wooly white hair and a bulldog chin. “Well, Joshua Norton, you’ve taken your time getting here.” She spoke with the familiarity of long acquaintance.

Delia wasn’t sure if the woman meant home from Africa or over to the ice cream table.

“But I’m here now, Mrs. Pendell,” he said. “And that’s what’s important.” He gestured back and forth to the two women. “Mrs. P, Miss Bellaire and her father are staying in Sweetwater Springs while he recovers his health.”

“I’ve heard tell.”

“Delia, this is Mrs. Pendell. She’s the housekeeper for the Dunns, who have a ranch in Green Valley. And her peach cobbler is a treat I still remember.”

The woman blushed. “I’ll be sure to bring one by on Sunday.”

“I’d like that just fine, Mrs. P.” He gave the woman his friendly smile.

But Delia could tell the man had no idea of his personal charm. . .natural charm. She’d been the recipient of enough manipulative gallantry to know the difference. Reverend Joshua displayed genuine warmth, which made her like him all the more.

She brought her attention back to the woman. “I’m delighted to meet you, Mrs. Pendell,” Delia said, and teased, “I was afraid you’d be out of ice cream by the time we moved from one end of the room to the other.”

Mrs. Pendell gave her a proud smile. “Oh, no, dearie. We’ve been planning this social for weeks. Everyone with cows contributed the cream, especially dairy farmers like the Muths.” She pointed at a couple—a petite woman who was heavily pregnant and her big husband, who looked like a Viking. “And Mr. Mead, who’s in that cluster of men talking politics in the corner. Practically every housewife contributed the toppings.”

Reverend Joshua surveyed the stacked jars of syrup, each column a different color.

“Do we have a choice, Mrs. Pendell?”

“That you do, Reverend,” she said proudly. “Raspberry, saskatoon, huckleberry. Sorry, we’re out of strawberry. Only the Cobbs brought those. Elderberry, chokecherry, and buffalo berry.”

“Buffalo berry?” Delia echoed.

“Why, yes,” said Mrs. Pendell, flicking her hand toward the red jars. “Thorny bushes with little red berries. Makes a good syrup, if I do say so myself. Excellent on flapjacks, too.”

Delia remembered what she’d said to Micah. “I’ll take saskatoon.”

“Make that two,” Reverend Norton added. He picked up the first bowl.

As he handed it to her, their fingers brushed, sending a surge of warmth through her. She felt her cheeks heat. “Thank you.” She took a spoonful of ice cream. But, still feeling her unexpected reaction to his touch, she barely tasted the creamy treat.

Delia looked toward the door and noticed the beautiful woman she’d seen earlier walking in with another man holding her arm. Before she could speculate on what had happened to Mr. Livingston, she spotted a tall, thin cowboy coming up to her. He had a beaky nose, receding chin, and shy gray eyes.

He sent a group of men quick glances, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he tried to get out some words.

The men gestured and mouthed directions to him.

Delia took pity on him. “Have your friends put you up to talking to me?”

“Yes’m. Bet me.”

Delia let out a peal of laughter. “Have you won yet?”

“No’m. Ten. . .words.”

Delia counted his words on his fingers. “You have five more to go.”

His smile stuttered into view. “I. . .I think you’re real purty.”

With a smile, Delia held up her hand, her fingers spread. “That’s five. You’ve won. Now go back to your friends and collect your bet.”

With an expression of relief, he left her and slid through the crowd.

A smile of amusement still on her face, Delia watched the man go. For some reason, she’d let down the automatic guard she kept in place with men. . . . But she felt safe with Reverend Norton—with receiving his admiration. And now this cowboy’s. . .not that she was attracted to him like she was to the handsome minister. . . . But she felt. . .
respect
from the men in the room.
Is it that they think I’m white, or would they have treated me this way if they knew I was octoroon?

I wish I knew the answer.