Painted Montana Sky: A Montana Sky Series Novella (6 page)

After Tyler finished the blessing, the men dived into the food, eating as if they hadn’t seen food for a week. Although, she was glad to see, they displayed good table manners in spite of the speed of their consumption. Since no one looked starved, Lily figured it had been a while since breakfast.

At one point, Tyler stopped eating and looked apologetically in her direction. “Ranching makes for a hearty appetite. And when you have a good cook like our Mrs. P., here…” He winked at the housekeeper.

Mrs. Pendell sniffed, but her cheeks turned pink with pleasure. “You’re just hoping I’ll bake you a pie, Tyler Dunn.”

“I live in anticipation of your pies, Mrs. P. and so do my men.”

The three cowboys solemnly nodded their agreement.

Eyes bright, Oliver grinned and bobbed his head up and down in enthusiasm.

Lily broke her biscuit in half, then reached for the butter and spread a liberal pat on the slice. She took a bite, feeling the dough melt into her mouth.
Heavenly.

They all ate in silence, obviously enjoying the meal.

After Tyler finished his first helping, he dished himself a refill, and then motioned for the men to pass him their plates. As he handed out seconds, he asked, “Did you enjoy your soak in our pool, Lily? I remember my grandpa swearing it made his rheumatism feel better.”

“I’m better. Not as stiff and sore.”

“Wonderful!” He beamed and nodded.

Mrs. Pendell buttered her biscuit. “Miss Maxwell, tell us what led you out this way. We’ve had some unexpected visitors before, but not young ladies.”

Oliver’s eyes lit up. “More like moose and wolves and…”

Mrs. Pendell sent the boy a reproving glance.

The boy sighed and rolled his eyes. “I know. Children should be seen and not heard.”

“Oliver.” Tyler’s tone sounded reprimanding, but Lily could tell he was repressing a smile. “Mind your manners, son.”

Lily smiled at the boy. “It’s hard to be quiet at the table when you have so much to say. My sisters and I had the hardest time following that rule.”

“You have sisters?” Oliver shot a guilty look at his father and hunched his shoulders.

“Two.” She pretended the boy hadn’t violated an order and spoke to everyone at the table. “I’m the oldest. Sophia is the next. She’s an opera singer, with the most beautiful voice and a parade of suitors, none of whom interest her. My youngest sister, Emma, is a gentle soul. She took care of me when I was injured, even though she was only twelve at the time. She wants to be a nurse, but our father won’t hear of such a thing. I think she’s almost worn him down though.”

 
Lily turned her attention back to Mrs. Pendell’s question. “I’m painting botanical drawings of flowers. Mrs. Sebastian Regis-Smith has commissioned a book of the native flowers of the United States. She’ll include ten drawings from each state, but wants fifteen types of flowers to choose from. Pepe from the livery told me I could find many varieties by the river.”

Mrs. Pendell cut a chunk of meat with her knife. “That area is beautiful in the spring. But I didn’t see any easel or paints with you.”

“I know.” Lily wrinkled her nose. “When Dove fell into the river, I completely forgot them.”

Habakkuk cleared his throat. “I’ll take the wagon and fetch them back for you.”

“Thank you.” Lily glanced over at Tyler, surprised to see a wintery look in his gray eyes, which made her uneasy. She looked away and took a bite of her stew. Once she’d chewed and swallowed, she continued. “Mrs. Regis-Smith is paying my expenses and then will buy each drawing she chooses. She has an enormous fortune, which she uses…in unusual ways…to help women. She’s chosen many women, one or two per state.” She glanced down for a moment before looking at the housekeeper. “I think my affliction led her to select me.”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Pendell said firmly. “I’m sure you must be very talented. I look forward to seeing your work.”

“Whatever talent I have seems to have deserted me. The pressure to succeed is interfering with my ability to draw and paint. I was actually doing well today. That picture is probably ruined now.” She shrugged. “Oh well. Dove’s more important anyway.”

“When do you need to turn in the drawings?” Mrs. Pendell asked.

“I have to ship them to Boston in ten days.”

“Oh, dearie me. So soon.” The housekeeper put down her fork in consternation. “How many have you finished?”

“Five.” Just thinking about the looming deadline made Lily’s muscles tighten.

“I guess you’ll have a busy week,” the housekeeper said.

“I hope I have a busy and
productive
week.” She glanced at Tyler who seemed to be applying himself to his food and not listening. His rigid posture made her think he was bothered about something.

About me?
No,
Lily told herself
. That can’t be right. He was fine before. Maybe he’s the type of man…
she could almost hear her grandfather’s gruff voice.
Women should be home tending their families, rather than gallivanting around the country drawing flowers!

Whether or not her assumption was true, she grabbed hold of the thought and used it to distance herself from the man she found so attractive.

~ ~ ~

She’s a painter.
Tyler’s earlier good feeling had snuffed out quicker than a candle flame. He finished the meal in silence, not even enjoying a piece of Mrs. Pendell’s vinegar pie because Lily’s revelation had gotten his stomach all riled up. He was glad to exit the house and hitch up the wagon. The sooner he delivered Lily Maxwell back to town, the sooner he could go back to normal.
Eat pie like a regular man.

He knew his reaction to her being an artist wasn’t rational. Lily had nothing to do with the scoundrel who’d made off with his wife. But he couldn’t help his feelings, and in fact, didn’t particularly want to think about them.

But on the ride to the town, he was conscious of the woman sitting next to him. Her dress had dried out enough to wear, and he couldn’t bear to look at her—see how the violet-colored material made her eyes as bright as amethysts.

Just listen to me. Thinking like a darn poet. Never even had those thoughts about Laura.

His mother had a ring with a round, pale amethyst in a gold setting that had been made from her father’s watch fob. Thank goodness, his mother had still been alive when Laura left. Tyler thought of his mother’s few cherished pieces of jewelry, which he now kept in his bureau. If his wife had stuck around a few more years, when his mother passed, he would have given them to her. And he was sure Laura would have taken the jewelry with her when she abandoned them. A woman who deserts her husband and child wouldn’t hesitate to make off with two rings, a bracelet, and a brooch.

The memory of his wife’s betrayal served as a reminder not to get too close to this woman, whose air of fragility and tough spirit had touched him. But, Tyler reminded himself, Laura hadn’t seemed like a faithless schemer when they’d first met, although she had always expressed a taste for the finer things in life. He should have paid attention to that, instead of assuming she’d come to love the ranch like he did.

He glanced over at Lily’s long, slender fingers, saw the gold ring she wore on her right hand, with tiny diamonds set in a pattern of swirls, and knew she must have a well-off family.

She’s leaving to go back to them
, he reminded himself.
Don’t let her take your heart with her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

That afternoon on the way to town, Lily sat on the blanket-padded wagon seat with Dove next to her. She tried to watch the side of the road for flowers she could use, but her attention tended to stray to the man at her side. She snuck a glance at his profile, shaded by a black hat.

But although her heart raced at the memory of being in his strong arms, she was more than ready to get settled at the rooming house and concentrate on her artwork.

Ever since dinner, Tyler had changed, become silent, only speaking when he had to. He’d remained unfailingly polite, but Lily didn’t like the way he’d withdrawn from her.
Perhaps it’s for the best.
But she didn’t believe her thoughts.

The track of the road traveled by the river for quite a ways. Lily had to avert her eyes. The rushing water was no longer lovely and benign. Each time she thought of Dove swept away down the raging river, her stomach clenched.

As they approached the town, Lily turned her attention to the buildings and people. Scattered houses and businesses dotted the outskirts. They drove past a gray and white Victorian situated on a large corner. On the main street, a huge brick Italianate house caught her eye. The home looked out of place with the simple structures surrounding it. She admired a less elaborate home that had rose bushes growing over a white picket fence and a lilac in the corner, wafting a sweet fragrance as they passed.

Tyler pulled to a stop in front of the boarding house, set the brake, and secured the reins. Then he walked around the wagon to help her down. He started to extend a hand for her to put in his, hesitated, and then reached for Lily’s waist.

Wishing for their previous connection, Lily placed her hands on his shoulders. She still liked his touch, but it wasn’t the same.
That’s probably for the best,
she reminded herself for the tenth time in the last hour.
No sense wishing for what I can’t have.

He swung her down, holding her until she regained her balance.

Dove moved to the edge of the seat, eager to follow.
 

With a gentle move, Tyler lifted Dove to the ground.
 

The dog squatted and relieved herself, then started to sniff the ground.

Lily called the dog to her side.

As they walked toward the kitchen entrance, Dove pressed against Lily’s leg, until the dog was almost hidden by her skirt. “It’s all right, baby,” she soothed, hoping the dog would soon recover her usually frisky spirits.

Widow Murphy was sweeping the stoop outside the kitchen door. She wore a straw hat and a dirt-stained white apron over a faded brown dress. The woman had a beaky nose and a wattle under her chin. When she saw them approach, she pasted a polite smile on her face and leaned the broom against the wall. She nodded at Tyler. “Mr. Dunn. And you must be Miss Maxwell.” Her beady eyes looked from Lily to Tyler. She was obviously wondering why they’d arrived together. “I just took cookies out of the oven. Mr. Dunn, won’t you join us?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Murphy. But I must head back—”

“Varmint!” Mrs. Murphy screeched. She grabbed the broom and raised it to aim a swat at Dove, who’d trotted out from the shelter of Lily’s skirt.

Lily gasped, taken off guard. But before she could move to Dove’s rescue, Tyler leaped in front of the dog and seized the broom.

Lily stooped and pulled Dove into her arms. Awkwardly, she rose. The dog’s weight pulled her off balance, and her bad leg couldn’t compensate. She tottered to the side.

Tyler must have had eyes in the side of his head, for without letting go of the broom, he reached his other hand and gently grasped Lily’s arm to steady her. “Mrs. Murphy, the dog belongs to Miss Maxwell.”

Mrs. Murphy yanked her broom away from Tyler’s grasp. “What! That animal has been in my house?” The woman scowled, looking like she wanted to beat Lily’s escort.

“Dove slept in a box I have for her,” Lily said in a reassuring tone. “So you don’t have to worry that she made a mess.”

The woman pointed the broom at Dove. “I won’t have that creature in my house.”

“But Mrs. Murphy,” Lily protested. “I’ve booked the room and paid for several days in advance.”

“I’ve had to put up with orphaned hooligans and the son of a murderer.” Mrs. Murphy shook her head, and her wattle swung like an angry turkey’s. “I’m not allowing a dog to cross my threshold!”

Lily didn’t understand what orphans and murderer’s sons had to do with her. “I promise you, Dove won’t be a problem.”

Mrs. Murphy pointed back toward the garden. “That creature can sleep in the shed,” she said as if making a great concession.

Outside?
Lily drew back as if hit. “Dove always sleeps beside my bed. I couldn’t make her sleep outside, especially after she fell in the river today and almost
drowned
,” her voice rose.

“No! And that’s my final word.” The woman opened the kitchen door, preparing to go in.

Lily’s shoulders drooped. “But where will I stay?”

“That’s not my concern,” Mrs. Murphy snapped.

What am I going to do now? There’s no hotel in Sweetwater Springs, and I can’t leave the area. I must finish the botanical drawings!

~ ~ ~

Tyler kept a tight rein on his anger. He couldn’t give in to the impulse to pummel a lady.
Well, she’s not a lady. Widow Murphy doesn’t deserve the honor of the term. She’s a witch.

“Miss Maxwell can stay with me.
Mrs. Pendell
…” he made sure to emphasize the housekeeper’s name so Mrs. Murphy would know Lily was well chaperoned “—will be happy to cosset her
and
the dog.”

“Humph.” The widow set the broom down and leaned the handle against the wall.