Painted Montana Sky: A Montana Sky Series Novella (12 page)

Today was her last day of painting. Her portfolio was already full with several drawings of each flower she’d chosen for Mrs. Regis-Smith. She just needed one more.

Lily added a dab of lavender to the blue violet on her paper. Sitting back, she squinted from the picture to the real flower.
I’ve done it!
 
She released a sigh of satisfaction and set her brush into a cup of water, knowing she’d accomplished the best work of her life right here at Green Valley Ranch.

I want to stay. Explore the area, paint more new flowers, trees, and bushes. How will I be able to confine myself to gardens and parks after having acres and acres of wilderness to inspire me?

She gazed down into the valley, absorbing the beauty of the vista. From the higher elevation, she could see over the whole ranch: the brown dots of cattle, the river like a silken gray ribbon—not frightening from this far away—and closer the ranch house and big barn, looking like children’s toys. She could even make out Mrs. Pendell, as tiny as a doll, hanging out clothes on the clothesline.

I don’t have to live in Chicago just because my family’s there.
Lily wondered if living in nature would be worth not being with her father and sisters.
We could exchange visits
.
But I certainly couldn’t return to Sweetwater Springs.
Seeing Tyler and Oliver, knowing she couldn’t be part of their family…would hurt too much. The truth was, when she left, Lily would be leaving a big piece of herself at Green Valley Ranch.
Maybe I can make a home in Colorado or Wyoming….
The thought made her heart ache.

She reached down to pet Dove’s head, rubbing her ears.

The animal gave her a sleepy doggy smile and licked her hand.

Lily looked up at the sky, saying a prayer for guidance. Afterward, feeling more at ease, she watched a squirrel jump from one branch to another in a tall pine, silhouetted against the deep blue hues of the Montana sky she’d come to love.

With the sixth sense she seemed to have developed around Tyler, Lily sensed his presence before she heard Domino’s hoofbeats. In the last few days, Tyler had ridden with her while she drove the buggy to a spot where he thought she could safely paint. Then he’d leave to attend to his ranch work, returning to check on her several times, often bringing food or something to drink. Twice, they’d shared a picnic and talked.

He hadn’t kissed her again, but the awareness of those moments in the moonlight had shimmered between them. He found little excuses to touch her, tucking her hair behind her ears, taking her hand to help her over perfectly even ground, tapping her shoulder to get her attention and then pointing out something of interest, sitting close to her when he drove her someplace in the wagon.

Lily had welcomed every touch—stored them in her body like a stone gathered the heat of the sun. She knew now that prior to meeting Tyler, she’d only lived in the shadows. In these past few days, she’d finally stepped into the light and felt happy and alive. But each day was also tinged with sorrow because she could never completely forget this magical time would come to an end. The awareness made her desperately cling to each memory as she made it.

Now, as Tyler moved into the meadow, their eyes met and neither could look away. He wore a solemn expression, yet the spark in his gray eyes kindled a fire Lily could feel in her chest.

With athletic grace, he swung down from the horse and tied the reins to the low branch of a pine tree. Unbuckling his saddlebag, he took out a bundle, and then strode over to her, one arm slightly behind his back, so she couldn’t see what he held.

Cookies
, she supposed.

Happy to see him, she gave him her hand. “I’ve finished. Look.” With her other hand she gestured to the drawing. “But I want to do another one, just in case.”

He squeezed her hand and didn’t release her as he studied the picture. “Looks perfectly fine to me. Even better than the original.”

She laughed. “I’m not a better artist than God, Tyler.”

“How ’bout as good as the original?”

Lily blushed. “Thank you. I need to get it right. This is important to me.”

“They’re just wildflowers,” he teased.

“If Mrs. Regis-Smith chooses my drawings…she could reject them, you know. That will establish me as a botanical artist,” Lily said, trying to make him understand. “I’ll receive other commissions.” Her voice grew passionate. “Be able to provide for myself and not be dependent on my father. I can leave a legacy for future generations.” Her voice dropped, “Give my life meaning.”

His gaze gentle, Tyler brushed her cheek with one finger. “You have meaning to me, Lil. To all of us at Green Valley Ranch.”

Emotion clogged her throat. She swallowed, took a deep breath, and changed the conversation to a safer topic. “If you don’t mind my abusing your hospitality, I’d like to ship the drawings off to Mrs. Regis-Smith tomorrow and remain here for another few days. I want to paint some pictures to give as gifts. My way of showing my appreciation for what everyone has done for me. Would that be all right?”

Tyler dropped a kiss on the top of her hand. “More than all right. Although I do have another way for you to show your appreciation.” Pulling up his hidden arm, he started to extend his hand, then released her and unwound a navy blue handkerchief to expose a lace bundle. “Oliver made this for you. In a way, it’s from both of us.”

What could he possibly mean?
Lily took the parcel with both hands. Setting it in her lap, she slowly unwrapped a homemade book. Her lips curved in a smile at the heavy crooked printing, addressing the gift to her, and she fingered the blue ribbon. “How clever of him.”

“He has a message for you.”

Tyler’s serious tone made apprehension curl around her spine. She opened the book, began to page through, glancing at the familiar pictures and stopping to examine the ones she hadn’t yet seen. Each turn of the page tightened a twist of emotion around her heart.
Oliver, dear, dear Oliver.
Her lips trembled. She tried hard to keep the feelings locked away.

When she reached the last page, seeing Oliver’s dream of her and Tyler married, tears blurred the portrait. She ran her fingers over the page as if she could absorb the scene and wished with all her heart it could come true.

How could she though? Agreeing to wed him wouldn’t be fair when she couldn’t be the wife he wanted. To stop such imaginings, Lily gave a little shake of her head.

Tyler shifted.

She glanced up at him; saw by the pained look on his face that he’d caught her message.

“I’ll tell him no, then?”

She couldn’t speak, could barely nod.

“I’ll explain…” His voice thickened. “You’re going to be a famous artist, and for that you’ll need to leave us.”

Lily almost stopped him, explained about the lack of babies. But he could hardly give that explanation to his son. Better they both think her reason was because of her art.

“I’ll leave you to finish up.” He touched his hat and walked away, his back stiff.

Lily pressed her hand to her chest to hold in the pain. Biting back a sob, she turned her head, unable to bear watching him ride away.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The next morning, Lily watched the train depart from Sweetwater Springs, carrying all her hopes for the future. Or what used to be all her hopes before she’d come to this town. But this morning she couldn’t muster much enthusiasm for her completed artwork. She kept thinking of the set of Tyler’s shoulders when he’d walked away from her…Oliver’s woebegone face at supper…how they both had avoided looking at her.

After supper last night, Tyler had announced that in the morning, he planned to ride out, checking the boundaries, and would be gone for a few days. That made it easy for Lily to stay at the ranch with the excuse—at least that’s what she told herself—that she needed to paint some pictures for the Thompsons, Mrs. Pendell, Pepe, and of course, Tyler and Oliver. But she also knew when Oliver came home from school that she’d have to explain…somehow find a way to tell the boy that she loved him yet would still have to leave.
How can I do that?

Once the train chugged out of sight, Lily turned and walked back toward the little buggy, her steps heavy. Glancing over at the brick mercantile, Lily decided to go inside and buy some candy for Oliver and maybe just browse. She crossed the dirt street and went inside.

A tall, thin man, with a circle of hair on his bald head and a bulbous red nose, stood behind the counter. He nodded at her.

Lily inclined her head in return.

The smell of vinegar from the pickle crock near the door tickled her nose. Lily looked around, ignoring the man-things like tools and farm implements, and focused on bolts of material and a rack of straw hats, trailing colored ribbons.

She noted that, unlike many country stores, the Cobbs carried shelves of new clothing and pairs of shoes and boots. Several skirts and shirtwaists hung from pegs on the wall. A dress form held a lace-edged black gown. A red silk scarf caught her eye, and she thought to buy it for Mrs. Pendell.

In a long rack in the back, Lily found the section of already-worn clothes—often fancy apparel that had been discarded or sold by the previous owners. The fine clothing was often cheaper than the more sturdy everyday wear because stores struggled to sell the garments. She ran a hand over a black silk waistcoat and shook her head at the notion that some cowboy might wear it while chasing after steers.

A woman joined her at the rack. When she turned to send her a friendly smile, Lily recognized the doctor’s wife. Under a plain straw hat with green ribbons, Mrs. Cameron wore her curly red hair pulled back in a loose bun. The trim of her hat made her hazel eyes look green. “Good morning, Miss Maxwell. I thought I’d see if there was something already made I could wear or make over.”

Lily was charmed by the woman’s Scots brogue.

Mrs. Cameron patted her rounded belly. “Doesn’t make sense to buy new clothes when I’ll only be needing them for a few months.”

Lily felt the familiar stab of envy at the woman’s condition, but she tried to suppress it. She pursed her lips. “You’ll wear the dress again, surely. Each time you’re….” She waved toward the woman’s middle.

Mrs. Cameron shook her head, sending a stray corkscrew of hair flying. “I’ve been married ten years without sight of a bairn.” She placed a hand on her extended stomach. “This is my wee miracle, and I’m not sure I’ll be blessed enough to have more.”

Lily’s longing for her own little miracle squeezed her heart until it hurt. She looked away, sure the pain must show on her face, and fingered the tattered lace around the sleeve of a blue-striped shirtwaist, as if she were interested in the garment. She didn’t want to dampen Mrs. Cameron’s obvious joy.

“Here I am, nattering on when you barely know me.”

Lily gave the woman a reassuring smile. “If I were in your condition, I’d certainly do more than my share of nattering.”

“Oh!” The doctor’s wife dropped her hand to the side of her belly. “I felt the bairn kick.” The woman’s eyes filled, and she covered her mouth with her free hand. “I mean on the outside. Miss Maxwell, you must feel it.” She grabbed Lily’s hand and placed it over the spot.

Sure enough, Lily felt something poke and move under her palm. Awe infused her and she exchanged a long, emotion-filled look with the woman—a stranger—who’d shared the miracle growing inside her. Reluctantly, Lily dropped her hand. “Thank you.”

“Dear me, you must think me mad, grabbing you and making you feel the babe. Can I plead insipient motherhood a rattlin’ my brains?”

“You have just given me a wonderful gift.” Lily’s voice roughened. “A chance to feel something I’ll never experience for myself.”

Mrs. Cameron’s brows pulled together. “Why do you say that, dearie?”

Her maternal tone encouraged Lily to open up. “I was in a riding accident. Broke my leg and hip. The doctor told me I’d couldn’t have children—doing so would kill me, and the baby too.”

Alice Cameron exhaled an audible breath. “That’s tragic.” She reached for Lily’s hand and squeezed. “I know what it’s like to long for a child...to pray daily. To even light candles to the Blessed Mary, mother of God. But at least I had hope one might appear. And
that
you don’t have.”

Lily hadn’t spoken about her lost hopes for a long time. She’d given up her dreams of a family, had tried, truly tried, not to feel bitter. Most of the time she succeeded—until coming to Sweetwater Springs and meeting Tyler and Oliver…Her grief must have shown on her face.

Eyes narrowed, Mrs. Cameron cocked her head. “How long ago was your accident?”

“Six years ago. I was eighteen.”

“Have you been seen by a doctor since you healed?”

Lily shook her head.

“Why don’t you have my husband examine you? Perhaps a different opinion…?”

A flare of hope shot through Lily.
But to what end?
She ruthlessly squashed it down. “I don’t know….”

“What have you to lose, Lily? May I call you Lily?”

“Please do.” Lily felt reluctant to try to see the doctor. A confirmation would hurt so much more. “I’m not sure, Mrs. Cameron.”

“If we’re to be on a first name basis…Alice.”