Glorious Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series) (22 page)

“Besides a clean handkerchief,” his grandmother interjected.

Micah rolled his eyes. “No handkerchief. Just a present for Lizzy.”

“I’ll get a handkerchief for you, dear. They’re clean. I just haven’t ironed them yet.” Grandmother dug into the clothesbasket in the corner of the room to find a white one, which she handed to him. “Why don’t you bring your drum?”

Micah shot her a glance of astonishment.

She smiled and patted his shoulder. “The Carters are fond of noisy parades.”

A parade?
He exchanged a puzzled look with his father, silently asking for permission to bring his drum.

His brows raised, Father shrugged, indicating he didn’t know about drums and parades, either. He grinned and flicked a hand at the lean-to. “Go get it.”

Micah grabbed the drum from his bed and returned to the kitchen with it tucked under his arm.

Father shot a pointed glance in the direction of Micah’s pocket. “What are you giving Lizzy? Nothing alive, I hope,” he teased.

Micah pulled the owl from his pocket and held it up.

His father studied the carving. “Ah. Nice. I don’t remember seeing this one.”

“Mother threw it away,” Micah admitted.

“Well, I’m glad you rescued the owl. A perfect present.” Father hesitated. “I know how much the things you brought from Uganda mean to you. . . .”

Uncomfortable with the emotion Father’s words brought up, Micah ducked away. He ran out of the kitchen, down the hall, through the parlor, and out the front door.

Outside, the old buggy waited, Matilda already hitched. He ran over to pet the horse’s nose, waiting for Father to help Grandmother into the seat. Then Micah climbed in after her.

Once on the main street, Matilda settled into a slow trot. Micah relaxed, looking forward to playing with his friends. Sundays didn’t count because he wasn’t allowed to do more than talk quietly before parting with them to go home.

Pulled by a team of glossy brown horses, Banker Livingston’s shiny black surrey flashed by them. Miss Delia sat between Mrs. Grayson and Mr. Livingston. As they passed, Miss Delia leaned forward, smiled, and lifted her hand to them.

Micah waved so hard, he almost fell out of the vehicle.
I wish we had a surrey like that and a team of horses, too. Black ones, though.

The clip of hoofs heralded another buggy. Dr. and Mrs. Cameron passed them by, although not as fast as the Livingstons. They, too, waved. Their chestnut horse looked young and strong. Not like Matilda.

“I think. . .” Micah waited until his father glanced at him. “Matilda’s old. Maybe we should get a new horse so she wouldn’t have to work so hard. A black one.”

Grandmother shifted the basket on her lap. “Oh, no, dear. Matilda suits our needs just fine.”

His father flicked him a glance. “Mother, I think Micah might have a good idea. We do need to consider adding another horse and buggy to our stable.”

“We don’t have a stable,” Micah pointed out. “We use the livery.”

Father laughed. “A figure of speech.” He transferred the reins to one hand and patted Grandmother’s knee. “We wouldn’t replace Matilda. But if the Reverend will be gone more often, we’ll need a second horse and buggy. It was good of Mack Taylor to lend Father a young, strong horse and the surrey for his journey, but we can’t keep imposing on his generosity.”

Grandmother clutched the basket tighter. “But the expense, the upkeep. . . .”

“I know,” Father agreed, taking back the reins in both hands. “But think of it, Mother. If Mack loans us his horse and surrey, then he can’t rent it out to anyone else. So he may lose money each time.”

Grandmother gave a sharp intake of breath. “We can’t allow that. But can you afford it, Joshua? You just went to all that expense to expand the parsonage.”

“Don’t worry, Mother. I wouldn’t purchase anything I couldn’t afford.”

“All right then.” She settled back against the seat.

Father winked at Micah.

That expression made him wonder if seeing Banker Livingston’s equipage had given his father similar envious feelings.

“Has the Carter ranch changed much?” Father asked, obviously changing the subject. “I remember the house was the biggest I’d ever seen.”

“I don’t think the Carters have added onto the house since you left,” Grandmother said slowly, as if trying to recall. “The yard looks much different from when you were young, more plantings. The only thing that’s the same is the oak tree. The barn’s bigger.” She tapped her chin. “I don’t believe I’ve been to their home in two years. Not since the summer we had a heat wave and an outbreak of influenza.” She made a sad sound. “Such a terrible time. Many became ill. . .the Meager baby died. . .several of our older citizens passed away.”

Micah knew about times of illness, of people dying. But somehow, he hadn’t realized pestilence happened in America, too. The thought made him sad. He felt as if the world’s troubles weighed on him. To cheer himself, he thought of Lizzy’s face when he gave her the owl.

“Lizzy fell ill not long after her birthday celebration, and we almost lost that dear little girl.” Grandmother shook her head. “A real miracle she survived. . .”
her voice trailed off.

The thought of Lizzy dying gave Micah a strange pang in his chest. They had miracles in Uganda, too, Micah remembered, feeling a bit better. Mother and Father had helped tend the sick, prayed over them. . .rejoiced when some survived.

They drove through the outskirts of the town and headed toward the mountain pass. Conversation waned. As the buggy moved along the road through the forest, Micah amused himself by looking for squirrels as if he’d planned to hunt. Birds, too, although he didn’t know which ones made for good eating, so he wouldn’t have shot at any. But he liked pretending.

Just as he became bored with the hours of traveling and started to fidget, the buggy crested the pass and he could see down into a great, long valley. The Carter home looked like a doll’s house amid barns and other buildings. Cattle spread through wide pastures of pale green grass. A tree-lined river sparkled in the sun. Wagons and buggies were parked around the barn, with the horses turned loose in a paddock.

As they drove closer, Micah recognized the adults who stood talking under the trees. He looked for his friends but couldn’t find them and wondered where they were.

Up close, the white house looked as wide as the Livingstons’, but not as tall. He liked the comfortable look of the broad porch across the front.

Father dropped them off near the house and headed the buggy toward the barn.

His grandmother waved at people, but instead of stopping to talk, she led Micah straight toward the house. They crossed the porch that had several rocking chairs and went through the front door.

The inside was plainer than he’d expected. Not at all like the Maynards’ or Livingstons’ houses. The wooden floor was scuffed and paint brightened the walls instead of wallpaper, with pictures of the sea
mounted along the staircase.

Mrs. Carter walked down the hallway, with Lizzy right behind her. “Mrs. Norton, Micah, you made it. I was concerned Reverend Joshua might have some other call upon his time.”

“No, dear Mrs. Carter. My son is parking the buggy.”

Mrs. Carter noticed Micah’s drum. “Look what you brought,” she said in a delighted tone. “Just what we need. Mark has a toy drum, but not like yours. Did you bring this from Africa?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lizzy, wearing a blue dress with a matching bow in her hair, barely peeked out at him from behind her mother.

“Hello, Lizzy.” Micah sent her the same smile he’d given her the night of the ice cream social—the one the grown-ups had teased him about. But this time, the Norton charm wasn’t working because the little girl wouldn’t smile back.

Wanting to catch her attention, Micah leaned over until he could see her full face.

Her eyes widened when she saw him watching her.

Micah made a face at her—not one of his scary ones with his tongue sticking out and his fingers pulling up his eyelids—but a funny one, with a goofy smile and rolling eyes.

Lizzy turned away.

Piqued, Micah tried a trilling whistle to coax her to glance at him again.

Mrs. Carter laughed, the sound warm. “I’m sorry, Micah. With all the excitement and the attention centered on her, Lizzy is having a shy attack. Hopefully, we’ll soon unhitch her from my side.”

He straightened, trying not to care that Lizzy hadn’t responded and wondering what he should do with her present, weighing down his pocket.

Mrs. Carter waved towards the staircase. “Go ahead upstairs. The boys are in Mark’s room. In about ten minutes, I’ll want everyone down here to start the birthday parade. And after we do that, we’ll eat, and you all can run around and play outside.”

Micah didn’t have any idea what a birthday parade was, but it sounded interesting.

Mrs. Carter looked from Grandmother to him. “We have a Falabella reunion.
All
of the miniature horses are here.”

Micah forgot all about Lizzy ignoring him. He’d heard stories about the miniature horses, but he hadn’t seen them yet. He could hardly wait. Full of excitement, he took the stairs two at a time.

On the second floor, the first open door
he glanced into was a girl’s room. Even if it hadn’t been full of gals in colorful dresses sitting on either of the two beds, chattering up a storm, he would have known from the dolls. The space reminded him of Mary Elizabeth Maynard’s. Although his aunt had informed him in a lofty tone that she no longer played with dolls, she still had them all around her room.

Inga, sitting in the middle of one bed, waved at him. She had Marta and Lottie on each side of her, and both of the bitty gals possessively clutched a doll to their chests.

Micah grinned at Inga, thinking Sarah and Lizzy might have a difficult time reclaiming their dolls. Then he ducked out before he could be discovered in girls’ territory and followed the yells of victory and groans of defeat.
Sounds like fun.
He quickened his steps through the open door.

Mark’s room had a big sailboat perched on pegs on the wall. Daniel Thompson and David Gordon sat at a small table, playing a game of checkers. Most of the boys were crouched in a circle in the space beside the four-poster bed, playing a game of marbles on the wooden floor, and making the kinds of noises Mother would have scolded Micah for before sending him outside.

Mark Carter looked and spotted him. “Heya, Micah. Come on in.”

Adam looked up from his position between the twins, Jack and Tim, his green eyes glinting. He wiggled backward out of the circle and leaped over some bodies to get to Micah. “Did you bring your slingshot?”

“Naw. My pa wouldn’t let me.”

“Mine, neither. He told me to stay out of trouble.”

Micah shook his head, remembering Father’s parting admonition. “How do you ’spose they all know to say the same thing?” He remembered his father and the toads and answered his own question. “Guess cuz they used to get in trouble, too.”

Adam thumped on the drumhead. “What ya got there?”

“My drum from Uganda.”

Adam’s eyes lit up. “Can I try it?”

Before Micah could hand over the drum, he heard Mrs. Carter calling.

“Children! Time for the parade!”

Mark jumped up. “Come on. My ma bought us tin horns and penny whistles to blow during Lizzy’s parade.”

“Gee willikers!” Daniel leaped up from the checkers table, his slanted eyebrows raised. “I want a horn. Come on, David.” He raced out of the room. David and Adam followed.

Micah stepped back into the hall, feeling bewildered by the horde of boys storming past him. He wished he knew what was going on. The old loss of missing Kimu and his friends panged as sharp as ever.

Sometimes, he hated how living in Uganda meant he didn’t know regular boy stuff in Montana.

After Joshua unhitched the mare, saw to the horse’s needs, and then turned it loose in the paddock, he strode toward the ranch house. His progress was slow because he had to stop and greet all the adults—mostly parents of the school children—scattered along the way.

Andre and Delia sat on a bench that curved around the trunk of a huge oak tree. Edith was on Andre’s other side. Delia waved to him.

Giving an acknowledging nod, he angled his way toward the trio, but before he reached them, the door of the house opened and laughing children streamed out. Joshua searched for Micah in the group, but didn’t see him. Finally, he spotted his son, trailing behind the others, the familiar sullen look on his face.

Joshua’s heart grew leaden and sank. Micah hadn’t worn that expression for a while, and he’d hoped it was gone forever. He hadn’t realized how much satisfaction he’d taken in his son’s acceptance of life in Sweetwater Springs.
Has he felt this way all along? Only seemed fine on the outside?

Holding hands with Lizzy, Pamela Carter followed the children, carrying what looked like a bunch of flowers in her other hand. She began directing the horde to line up into semi-orderly rows, and then put the crown of flowers on her daughter’s head.