Lassoing A Montana Heart

by Flightner, Ramona

  “You were never married?” he asked, as he took deep breaths in and out in an attempt to calm his reaction to her.

  “Nae, I’m easily shocked.”

  He sputtered out a laugh and fell to his back, tumbling her with him. She shrieked but grabbed onto his strong arm and settled to his side. The blankets continued to cover them, although the one she had used to cover his nakedness was in danger of sliding free. “Oh, miss, you are a treasure.”

  She froze at his words. “I ken what I am, and I am no treasure.” She wriggled in his arms in an attempt to free herself from his hold, finally giving up with a huff when he kept one strong arm around her. “I’d think ye’d ken when a woman doesna want yer attentions.”

  Tracing a finger over her flushed cheek, he smiled. His eyes were filled with delight as he stared at her flushed face, relaxed after sleeping in his arms all night. She had creases on her cheek and forehead from the blanket, and he held himself back from leaning forward to kiss along the irregular line. “You’re beautiful, miss. Any man who doesn’t see that is a fool.” He frowned as he felt her stiffen again at his compliment. “Why do you discredit any praise?”

  She buried her face in the blanket, hiding her expression from him.

  “What was your husband like?” Slims asked in a gentle voice.

  Her head jerked up, and she gaped at him in astonishment. “Why would ye ask about the man when I’m lyin’ in yer arms, an’ ye’re as naked as the day ye were born?”

  He chuckled and shook his head with remorse. “If we’d done something more than share our combined body heat so we wouldn’t freeze to death, I’d refrain from asking about the man, for I’d hope your thoughts would only be about me.” He gazed deeply into her eyes. “If this meant more than an act of mercy on your part, I’d roll you under me and act as though the blizzard still raged. Act like we had a stove and food and water, where we could remain here for days.” His thumb traced her lower lip, his breath catching as she nibbled at it.

  “Slims,” she breathed, as she wiggled around so they rested chest to chest.

  “Simon,” he whispered. “My name is Simon.” He ducked his head like a young boy, afraid of what the woman he adored most in the world would say.

  A bright smile burst forth, and she cupped his face with both of her hands. “Simon,” she murmured, her fingers delicately stroking through his hair. “A perfect name for ye.”

  “No one’s called me that since I was a lad.” His eyes shone with vulnerability and trepidation. His gaze seared her with its intensity. “Trust me.”

  “I’m layin’ with ye, and yer clothes are across the room,” she teased. “I must trust ye.” She bit her lip and sobered. “My husband was no’ a nice man. He tried, ye ken?” she said in a rush of words, as she saw Slims fighting indignation at the implication she had been harmed. “He never raised a hand against me, aye?”

  Slims caressed her shoulder and then ran his fingers through her silky hair that had come loose from its knot tied at her nape. It looked like a shaft of sunlight spread out on the pillow and blanket.

  In an almost dreamy voice, lost to her memories, she said, “But he never understood me, and he did no’ care to. He wanted a dutiful wife. A wife who did no’ think, who did no’ dream. An’ he wanted bairns.” She shrugged. “An’ we had bairns.”

  At the whispered agony in her voice at the last sentence, Slims’s caress gentled even further, and he made a murmur of distress on her part.

  “We had three bairns together, but none lived longer than six months,” she said, as a few tears coursed down her cheeks. “I miss them every day.”

  He pulled her closer, urging her head to his chest as his arms banded around her. “Of course you do,” he murmured. “What did your husband do?”

  She let out a huff of breath, pushing herself up. “There’s really no more to say, Slims.” She spun away so quickly from him, flushing furiously when she saw him resting with a blanket only covering him like a loin cloth, that she toppled off their pallet to the floor.

  Watching her with a wary expression as she became pricklier, while patting down her rumpled clothes and ratted hair, he nodded. “Oh, I think there’s plenty more to be said, miss. But I should dress. And we should go to town. And then we’ll see what shouldn’t be done.”

  Chapter 4

  Slims shivered in the sleigh as they made slow progress into town. Although he’d had to wade through nearly waist-high drifts to make a path for the sleigh and the horses to reach the road, once they had attained the roadway, Slims found marks, signaling another had already ventured to or from town. His clothes had barely dried from the night before, and the warmth he had felt upon wakening seemed a distant memory. A precious memory.

  Casting a furtive glance at his passenger in the sleigh, Davina sat hunched on the far side of the sleigh, seated as far away from him as possible. She glanced at the sea of sparkling white snow as though she had never seen such a majestic sight before. However, Slims knew from Sorcha that it snowed in Scotland, so he knew that Davina had seen fresh snow before.

  “Davina, I know you loathe me, but I’m freezin’. Will you please sit closer to me?” When she threw an incredulous glare at him over her shoulder and tossed her head back in a defiant nature, he let out a huff. “That’s it.” Holding the reins with one hand, he reached for her, tugging her toward him. He ignored her indignant shriek, tucking her into his side. “I’m not corrupting you,” he snapped, as she batted at him. “I’m cold, and I can see you shivering over there too. We have to share body heat on a day like today. Stop being petulant.”

  At his words, she froze and became docile, as she sat with stooped shoulders beside him.

  “What’s come over you?” he asked, as he took the reins by both hands again.

  “Nothin’,” she said, pulling the blanket around him and then herself. “You’re right. I was selfish, sitting separate in the corner.”

  He sat in quiet contemplation, as the harness jangled and the sound of the horse’s hooves made soft clop noises on the fresh snow. Suddenly he wanted to learn anything and everything about her; yet he refrained from asking any intrusive questions. He had to bite his tongue to prevent a deluge of queries from bursting forth. He knew her first husband had damaged her spirit, and he vowed he would only bring her joy. With a sigh, he focused on the scenery.

  A piercingly beautiful blue sky overhead, with clouds in the distance promising the potential for more snow, made the day seem even brighter after the dreariness of the previous days. A quick glance at the sun and Slims knew it had to be near to midday. “I doubt we’ll have time to gather what we need and return to the ranch today. It’s already too late in the day.”

  “It canna be,” she murmured.

  He shrugged. “There’s not much daylight this time of year, and it took longer than I would have liked to hitch up the team and to clear a path to the road.” He rubbed at his stomach that growled its hunger. “There’s a hotel in town, miss.”

  She nodded, slinking farther down as she tugged the blanket to her chin.

  He glowered at the blanket, wishing he could rip it off her, as he felt she used it as a shield to separate herself from him. However, he’d never intentionally harm her, and it was too cold to be without proper cover. “And you have family in town.”

  After a long moment, when he feared he would be consigned to carrying on a one-sided conversation, she said, “I doubt they will be as welcoming, warm, or trusting as Sorcha.”

  He laughed. “I think you will be surprised.”

  The sleigh curved around a bend, and they came upon Leena’s house. He slowed the sleigh when the front door opened. Rather than Leena, a large man exited. “Karl!” Slims called out. “How did you fare with the blizzard?”

  “Oh, we were fine, ja,” he said with a smile. “Had a fire with my Leena and my Mette in my arms.” His curious gaze roved from Slims to the woman cuddled beside him.

  Slims nodded and smiled. “I�
�m escorting Miss Sorcha’s cousin to town to retrieve her trunk and to get supplies for the ranch. I’m glad you’re well. Say hello to Leena for us.” He raised a hand.

  “Another storm’s coming!” Karl called out, as the sleigh began to move.

  “Thank you!” Slims said, waving, as they moved away from Karl’s house and toward town.

  Davina looked at him in confusion. “Why don’t you like him? He seemed nice, and Leena treated me well.”

  “Of course I like him,” he said, “but we need to get to town.”

  After a few more minutes, they approached the outskirts of the town of Bear Grass Springs. On the right was the school and church, while, on the left, a blacksmith shop was near a large livery. “That livery is owned by your cousins,” he said. He didn’t slow their progress through town as they sped past a general store, a café, a bakery, a newspaper office, and a bank. There were saloons too, although she didn’t focus on the names. She only looked to the buildings on the right side of the street as they drove through town, determined to do the same as they departed.

  “That bakery we passed is also owned by your cousin, as is the newspaper shop,” Slims said. “And the café is run by Frederick’s grandparents.”

  “My family is that important in this town?” she whispered.

  He chuckled. “Yes. When they speak, others listen.” He shrugged. “There are always those who are jealous of their influence, but then they are generally not worth worryin’ about.”

  She nodded and took a deep breath as they arrived at the small train station.

  After tying up the reins, Slims held out his arm for her to help her from the sleigh. He sent her a fierce look when she paused in placing her hand on his arm, frowning when he felt her fingers trembling on his jacket. “All will be well, miss.”

  “Davina,” she whispered. “Please call me Davina. Miss is too impersonal.”

  He paused, partway up the train station steps, his gaze locked with hers. “Davina,” he said with a smile. “Come.” He led her inside the small waiting room and called out to the stationmaster.

  “Hello, sir,” Davina said, “I’ve returned to collect my trunk.”

  The stationmaster blanched. “But it was already collected for you. Days ago.”

  “By whom?” Davina demanded. “Who would steal my things?”

  “Shh, miss,” Slims said in a warning voice. “Did one of the MacKinnons come by?”

  “Yes, Mr. Slims. That young whippersnapper Ewan was here. Charming as always, although you’ll know he’s a father now.”

  Slims schooled his features into one of mild interest. “Yes, how wonderful for him. If you’ll excuse us, we’ll seek him out.” Slims pushed Davina toward the exit. “Hush,” he muttered, when she began to protest. “All is well. Ewan is Sorcha’s brother. Although I don’t know how he’s a father. Jessamine wasn’t with babe the last I saw her.” He frowned and shook his head in confusion. Motioning for Davina to hop back in the sleigh, he followed her in.

  “We’ll stop at the store first, so Tobias can fill our order and then seek out the MacKinnons. I have a feeling you’ll have a long visit with them.”

  * * *

  Davina wandered outside the larger of the two stores in the town of Bear Grass Springs, the one Slims called the Merc, as he spoke to the proprietor, Tobias Sutton. She had learned that Tobias was also related to Frederick, although she wasn’t certain how they were related. It seemed that everyone in this town was related to her family in one way or another. She glanced across the road, looking past the hotel and a lawyer’s office, to watch with curiosity as men entered and exited a saloon called the Stumble-Out. A few seemed unsteady on their feet, and she grinned that the establishment had been aptly named.

  When a few of the saloon patrons watched her with unveiled interest, she turned her focus to the impressive two-story hotel. Although she relished the thought of a warm bath, she did not have any coin to pay for a stay there, and she dreaded being in Sorcha’s debt any more than she already was. She spun around at the sound of a grating voice.

  “What do we have here?” a woman asked in a harsh, critical rasp. “I had thought you would know to go to the Boudoir. They are always looking for fresh blood.”

  “Boudoir?” Davina asked with a crinkle in her brows. “I dinna ken what ye mean.” The older woman gripped Davina’s wrist, and she gasped in pain at the tight clasp.

  “Don’t tell me that you’re one of them.” The woman’s eyes shone with a mixture of glee and torment as she beheld Davina. The older woman stood ramrod straight and was so thin that it appeared the strong winds from yesterday could have blown her to the next Territory. Frayed around the edges, her black coat showed its age and hinted at her poverty.

  “One of whom, ma’am?” Davina asked, tugging on her arm to free herself, but unable to.

  “A MacKinnon,” the woman hissed. “A murderer.”

  “Nae, I’m nae MacKinnon,” Davina said with a cunning smile, “although I hope to ken them. I’ve heard they are an honorable, loyal family.”

  The woman made a sound akin to a growl as her hold on Davina tightened. “They wouldn’t know the meaning of the word honorable if it bit them on their behind.” She took in a deep stuttering breath. “If there was any justice in this world, they’d be in jail for the murder of my son.”

  Davina schooled her expression into one of mild interest. “I’m certain ye are mistaken.”

  The crone raised a gnarled finger and rasped, “They harbored a brutal horse in their livery and rejoiced when my Walter was trampled to death. If the lawyer wasn’t in cahoots with them, I would have had justice!”

  Davina stared at her with compassion but remained quiet.

  The older woman huffed out an aggrieved breath, and her astute gaze roved over Davina, as she tilted her head to one side. “You’re rather disheveled, dear.”

  Davina bristled. “’Tis what happens when ye’re stranded in the middle of a blizzard,” she snapped. She bit her lip as though instantly understanding she had said too much. At that moment, Slims emerged from the store, the door’s bell jingling a warning as to his arrival. The older woman released Davina’s arm and took a step back.

  “Mrs. Jameson,” Slims said with the merest of nods. “Always … interestin’ to see you.”

  “It’s a pleasure, you giant oaf,” she snapped. Her gaze traveled from Slims to Davina and back again. “You came into town together. I’d know if you’d been here any amount of time. Men in this town are fools for new women.”

  Davina stiffened but said nothing more, while Slims stared at Mrs. Jameson with a bored expression.

  “I wonder what the townsfolk will make of the news I have to impart?” she asked with a gleeful chortle. She pushed past them to walk down the boardwalk.

  Davina watched her and shook her head in confusion. “What was that about?” she asked.

  In a low voice, Slims asked, “What did you say to her?”

  Davina closed her eyes and whispered, “She criticized my clothes. Said I belonged in a place called the Boudoir. And I snapped at her that I’d been stranded in a blizzard.”

  Slims’s eyes widened, and he stared down the boardwalk to follow the back of the town’s busybody. “Oh no,” he breathed. “She’ll turn last night’s desire not to freeze into a night of lustful lovemaking.”

  Davina blushed. “Nae need to sound so horrified,” she snapped, as she moved to walk around Slims, although she had no idea where she was to go. She just felt a need to move.

  Slims gripped her arm, holding it gently, but preventing her from moving away. “Don’t you understand what she’ll do? She’ll ruin you, Davina. She’ll turn your life into a living hell.”

  She shook her head. “I ken what hell was. Livin’ with that ol’ bat’s disregard is no’ even purgatory.” She took a step away from Slims when she saw a man watching them curiously.

  “Seems ye found a woman who interests ye at last, Slims,” the man said wi
th a chuckle.

  Her gaze homed in on him, as she realized he was most likely a cousin. Where Sorcha was short and plump with reddish-brown hair, this man was tall and lean with thick blond hair in need of a trim. Even when not smiling, he always appeared to be on the verge of bursting into gales of laughter, and his brown eyes sparkled with merriment, although they held a hint of fatigue. She remembered the stationmaster mentioning a cousin who was a new father and wondered if this was Ewan. “Are ye Ewan?” she blurted out.

  “Aye,” he said with a quick smile. “Seems I’m famous.” He winked at her.

  “Ye have my trunk,” she said.

  “An’ ye believe ye are Sorcha’s cousin,” he said, his tone cooling and his expression turning serious.

  “I am her cousin. My da is a MacQueen.” She nodded at the recognition of the name in his expression. “I ken ye were no’ expectin’ me to appear. But I’m here.”

  “Aye, ye are,” Ewan said. “Come. Let’s have you meet Jessie and Aileana.” He pivoted, hopping off the boardwalk and reaching his arms up for her. After lifting her down, he offered his elbow. “Ye are a cousin of sorts, an’ we’ve never been too particular about who we consider family. However, if ye hurt Sorcha, ye’ll never be forgiven.” He looked at her to see if she would agree.

  “I understand. I have no intention of harming anyone,” she said, “although there are times our actions have unforeseen consequences.” She cast a glance over her shoulder and saw that Slims was following them.

  “Aye, well said,” Ewan murmured, as he squeezed her hand clasping his elbow. “Come. Jessie’s bored with the snow an’ men tryin’ to create one tall tale after another. A cousin arrivin’ in the middle of winter from Scotland will keep her entertained.”

  “Jessie?” Davina asked.

  “My wife. She’s the reporter in town. An’ a fine one, although there is no’ much to report.” He winked at Davina. “Ye’ll merit an article.” Before she could protest, he led her up the steps of a fine house near the sheriff’s. It was a row off the main street of town. “Jessie, I’m home with guests,” he called out.