Mystic Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series Book 6) (22 page)

“We have news.” Peter swung their hands. “We’ve set a wedding date of June fourteen.”

“Wonderful.” Caleb clapped a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Provided you take your honeymoon at the hotel.”

Silence followed, and eyes wide, everyone stared at him.

Caleb laughed. “I’m joking. Between Isaac and me, the place will be covered.”

The tension broke, and Peter chuckled. “You’ll have quite a full house. Our relatives will be traveling out here for the week.”

As they talked logistics about the hotel, Maggie’s thoughts drifted to the idea of falling in love.

Most of her friends in Morgan’s Crossing were happily married, but they were also well settled into matrimony. No weddings had occurred in the mining town since her and Oswald’s. But since coming to Sweetwater Springs, she felt surrounded by couples smelling of orange blossoms—the wedding bouquet flower popularized by Queen Victoria.
First Delia and Reverend Joshua, now Blythe and Peter.

In the midst of the happy congratulations, she glanced at Sophia to see a flash of what seemed like longing mirrored in the opera star’s eyes.
I must be mistaken. Sophia Maxwell is beautiful, charming, wealthy, and famous. She couldn’t possibly feel the same way I do.

Maggie let out a sad breath, conscious of the irony of her situation.
Being surrounded by love only makes me aware of my own lack.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

O
n the drive home, feeling energized by meeting Sophia Maxwell, Caleb planned how he could persuade the two performers to hold a concert at the hotel later in the week. While many far-flung families might not be able to return to town so soon after the Norton wedding, he thought enough would be interested to pack the hotel’s lobby.

Maggie leaned forward, looking from side-to-side, her eyes wide, her lips turned up with the hint of a smile. The drive had blown color into her cheeks, and she had a fresh loveliness—almost an innocence despite having been married—that made Sophia’s beauty seem almost overblown.

Her zest for life and her appreciation for what he did for her—even when she was stubborn about accepting what he offered—was so different from the often blasé attitudes of many people in upper-class Boston, including in his own family.
Especially my own family.

“Where are the sweet springs the town is named for?”

He grinned at her. “A commonly asked question. They are small and dot the town—both hot springs and cold ones. For example, there’s a hot spring under the hotel that provides all the heated water I need for the building. Saves me quite a bit on fuel costs. I’ll show you another spring when we get home.”

All too soon, they reached his house. Caleb pulled into the drive and guided the Falabellas past the kitchen door and closer to the stables, near the entrance to the backyard. He pulled up and set the brake. “Now, for what I want to show you.”

With an uncertain look, Maggie glanced back at the house.

He understood her need to go to her baby but wanted a bit more time with her. “Come with me for a few minutes. Then we’ll go inside, and you can retrieve Charlotte.”

Jed in his customary overalls came out of the stables, carrying a pitchfork. He saw them, propped the pitchfork against the side of the stable, and raised a hand in greeting. He ambled over, calling the Falabellas by name, giving their heads a quick rub and promising each a treat.

Caleb handed Jed the reins and tasked him with taking care of the tiny horses. He climbed out and walked around to help Maggie clamber from the small buggy. He didn’t release her hand, but tucked her fingers around his arm, enjoying the feel of strolling together without worrying about her ankle.

A high brick wall covered with ivy, leaves unfurling, surrounded the yard. He guided her toward a gate sheltered beneath an arbor, leading into his landscaped backyard, which was as big as a small park and just as beautiful, containing a gazebo, a pond, a wishing well, and wisteria-covered arbors, all bisected by brick walkways.

He watched the wonder bloom on Maggie’s face and turned to study his yard, as if seeing the place through her eyes—the red brick of the walkways, the spring green of the velvety grass, the swaths of crimson tulips and sunny daffodils, the lavender of the scented lilacs, the darker green of the low boxwood hedges, the rose garden that would later show a profusion of pink, red, and white flowers.

Caleb waved toward a fountain in the middle of the yard where a mermaid poured water from a jug. “There is one of our famous springs. I took advantage of the position and replaced a former springhouse with the fountain. With the icebox in the kitchen, we have no need for a springhouse. The spring flows into two channels that water the perimeter plants, fills a masonry tub and horse troughs in the stables, and runs into the meadow beyond the stable.”

Maggie released his arm and slowly circled, taking in the view of the whole yard. “This is so lovely now. I can only imagine how beautiful everything must look when the flowers are all blooming. You must spend a lot of time out here.”

Caleb thought for a moment and realized he rarely set foot in the backyard. Nor did he use the glassed-in solarium, even though the room was heated for use all year around. “Actually, I don’t, especially not the last few years while the hotel was being built. Work kept me too busy, even when I was home.”

“That’s such a shame,” she said with a shake of her head.

“You’re absolutely right. Now that the hotel is open, I have less to do with the business, for Peter runs everything so efficiently. So there’s no reason I can’t start enjoying this space and take advantage of nice weather.”

“You should.”

Especially if I have the company of a fine woman like Maggie.
Without thinking, Caleb reached out and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

Maggie’s lips parted in a sigh.

His gaze lingered on her mouth, wide and sweet. A sudden hunger to kiss her made him draw Maggie close. He pressed his mouth against hers, softly, a gentle caress, not a searing kiss, for he didn’t want to frighten her away.

Her hand on his arm tightened.

Caleb ran his tongue smoothly over her lips until she opened to him, making a small sound. He wanted to plunge his tongue into her mouth and deepen the kiss, to pull her against him and slide his hands over her curves, but he knew that brute of a husband had hurt her. This was only supposed to be a light flirtation, so he held back and waited for her to lead.

Maggie pulled back a few inches. Her eyes fluttered open, dark and luminous, the gold flecks sparkling in the sun. She swallowed and moistened her lips. She studied his face. Her generous mouth trembled, and then her lips turned up. “Why did you kiss me?”

“Because
I
enjoyed
your
enjoyment in our drive today. I know how seldom pleasures come your way, and I was glad to give you the experience. Because I lack appreciation of my blessings. . . .”
Because you are mine.

Caleb didn’t
want
to delve deeper inside himself to find his true feelings, so he resorted to some light banter. He touched the tip of her nose with one finger. “This is the month of May. A man is supposed to steal kisses in May.”

Maggie’s marriage had taught her well how to conceal her real feelings. Now, she tried to draw the familiar cloak of stoicism around her—to hide her response to what Caleb blithely called
stolen kisses
, which to her had felt like so much more. Somehow, she had to suppress the bubbling awareness of her physical response—that pure blissful moment in his arms, the tingles in her body, the sensations he’d created with his mouth and tongue and hands.
I didn’t know kissing could feel like this.

Caleb held out an arm and lifted his chin toward the house. “Let’s go see how Charlotte is faring with Samantha.”

Nodding, she took his arm. Maggie’s body was still edgy, aching for more of Caleb’s touch. She couldn’t yet speak.

He escorted her up the walkway toward the house, from time to time glancing downward, apparently to see if she was all right.

Maggie had as much as she could do to manage a gliding stride next to him that indicated everything was normal.

They entered the side door of the glass-paneled solarium, filled with wicker furniture and potted plants. White wooden lattice panels in a filigree pattern ran along the top of the glass. A bronze-and-glass chandelier hung from the middle of a peaked glass roof.

Normally, Maggie would have stopped to stare at such a beautiful room. Instead, she moved with him across the brick floor to the inner door of the house.

Hearing female voices from the parlor, she let go of his arm and came into the room. Edith and Samantha sat on the settee, a tray on the butler’s table in front of them laden with a plate of cookies and one of small sandwiches. The delicate aroma of China tea wafted into the air.

Even after two weeks of living here, drinking tea was still a luxury for Maggie. But now she focused on Charlotte in Edith’s arms and moved toward her, assessing the baby’s well-being.

Charlotte seemed fine. Her eyes were wide, arms waving.

Baby Patricia sat on Samantha’s lap, gnawing a crust. Both looked at Maggie and smiled. Without being bundled up in their outdoor garments, the resemblance between mother and daughter was astonishing—especially the red hair and sky-blue eyes.

Edith welcomed them before looking down at Charlotte. “And here’s your mama, sweet girl.” She lifted the baby to Maggie.

“Thank you both for taking care of her.” Maggie took her daughter into her arms, feeling as if her tilted world had just righted. She dropped a kiss on the downy head and inhaled Charlotte’s baby smell before turning to Samantha. “Your Falabellas are delightful. We’ve had the most marvelous outing. I can’t thank you enough.” Determined to pretend nothing had just happened between them, she cast a grateful glance at Caleb. “Thank you both.”

Samantha gave Maggie a knowing smile. “Yes, my little ones are delightful. Almost magical at times, I think.”

Caleb placed a hand on Maggie’s back, guiding her toward a blue wingchair. “Let me bring you some tea.” He walked to his sister and watched her pick up the teapot and fill a cup.

“Would you like sandwiches or cookies?” Edith asked Maggie.

She shook her head. “I’m fine, thank you. I enjoyed some of Mrs. Graves’s soup a while ago.”

Edith handed the cup and saucer to her brother, who set it down on a small table beside Maggie.

Caleb accepted a cup for himself and took a seat across from her in the other blue wingchair. “We learned some interesting news.” He glanced at Maggie, eyebrows pulling together. “Although, I’m not sure if it’s supposed to be a surprise.”

Maggie thought of Sophia’s dramatic entrance—one that any person in the lobby would notice. “I think not.”

Caleb took a sip of tea, apparently prolonging the suspense. “Sophia Maxwell and Blythe Robbins are visiting for a week and are to perform at the wedding.”

Maggie watched Caleb’s face light up as he spoke. Once again, she wondered about his feelings for the Songbird of Chicago.
Was that the reason he kissed me? Was he thinking of her?

“The other news is, Peter and Blythe have set a wedding date for June.”

Both women exclaimed in pleasure.

“Well—” Samantha leaned over and picked up a tiny coat “—I’d best be going before my husband sends the cavalry out after me.” She slid Patricia’s arm into the sleeve.

Caleb rose. “I’ll ask Jed to bring the Falabellas around.”

Edith stood and picked up the plate of cookies. “I’ll have Mrs. Graves pack these so you can take them with you for the children.”

“You’re very kind,” Samantha murmured.

By unspoken agreement, they waited until the sound of both pairs of footsteps died away.

Samantha leaned close. “I declare, Maggie Baxter, you must be a witch. I was
shocked
when my children came home the other day and told me Ben Grayson had actually apologized to Daniel and the others for how he’d treated them.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she smoothed her daughter’s hair. “Daniel was bouncing with joy. Well,” she amended, “Daniel is always bouncing. But that conversation was obviously healing for his spirits.”

“Caleb told me the story about what Ben did to your sons,” Maggie murmured.

“So I hastened here to meet you, for I couldn’t imagine what else caused Ben to make the peace overture. The recipe from Mrs. Graves was only an excuse for me to call.”

The women exchanged knowing glances about the grumpy housekeeper.

“Then I see that you’ve bespelled those two, as well.” Samantha waved a hand toward the door. “I’ve never seen them act so pleasant—in a genuine way.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“To be frank, they aren’t the warmest people. Yet, to my surprise, I’ve actually enjoyed my visit today. I’ve never seen Edith be so hospitable, nor Caleb so. . .so. . . .” Samantha shook her head. “I can’t even find the right word. He’s usually so
bankerish
.”

Maggie laughed. “That’s all Charlotte’s doing. She’s captivated everyone.”

Samantha laughed. “Well, I can understand that. My Pattycakes has won the heart of everyone on the ranch, even the most curmudgeonly cowboys. And her sister and brothers adore her. The way this baby is carried around, she might never learn to walk. She’ll go straight from humans to a pony.”

Maggie chuckled but couldn’t help a pang that Charlotte wouldn’t have a similar experience with a big family’s love.

But I will love her so deeply and fiercely she will never know the lack.

Even as she thought the words, Maggie knew their untruth. She’d been loved, yet she had still wished for a bigger family, especially after her father died, followed by his parents and her mother, and finally her grandmother.
If I had sisters and brothers, my daughter and I wouldn’t be alone.
“You are so blessed to have a large family.”

“And so I tell myself every day. And I give thanks to the Lord for my good fortune.” Samantha pulled the knit cap over the baby’s head. “But. . .a family is not just people who are bound by blood or marriage, although that is the most common. Families can also be made. I have three adopted sons and a stepdaughter whom I love as dearly as the two I gave birth to. And the children love one another and squabble and play together just the same as any siblings.”

Yet to create such a family also takes money.
Maggie knew she’d struggle to provide for the one chick she had and had no financial means to adopt more.