Montana Grit

by Ramona Flightner

  “How many cakes are you making?” Leticia asked.

  Annabelle shrugged. “I like to believe everything I make will turn out perfectly. However, I’m not that conceited. I’ll make an extra layer cake in case one of them sticks to the pan.”

  Leticia paused as she swiped at her sweaty forehead. “I always thought, if a cake fell apart, you fixed it with icing.”

  Her friend laughed. “I refuse to have you make do with an iced-together cake. This is your wedding party!” She took the bowl Leticia had just stirred and handed her another with an impish smile and a nod to start stirring. She giggled as Leticia groaned. After pouring the cakes into tins, Annabelle set them aside a moment before putting them in the oven. “I’ll wait until you’re done and then bake them all at the same time.”

  “Aren’t you opening today?” Leticia asked.

  Annabelle shook her head. “No. I put a sign up yesterday, announcing that I was closed for regular business today, but that I would see everyone at the reception.” She rolled her eyes. “Irene told me, when I delivered her basket, that the café was humming with excitement. Her patrons couldn’t stop talking about the fact they’d eat their fill of my goodies without having to pay for them.”

  “It would serve them right if we arrived with nothing.”

  “No, Leticia,” she said in a mildly scolding voice. “It’s not about them. It’s about celebrating you and Alistair. And I’m bound and determined to show how proud I am to have you as part of the family.” She swiped at her forehead.

  Leticia flushed and smiled her thanks. “Are you still making your baskets for the café, hotel, and Boudoir?”

  Annabelle shook her head. “No, I’m not today. I informed them of the same yesterday.” She rubbed at her belly before arching her back. “I’m more tired than I would like.”

  “Each pregnancy affects every woman differently.” Leticia paused and moved to the sink to wash a few bowls. “Perhaps Cailean is correct, and you should close the bakery for a while.”

  Annabelle shook her head. “Absolutely not.” She groaned as she sat on a stool for a moment and took a break. “I used to never need breaks,” she muttered.

  “Why are you opposed to closing the bakery?” Leticia wiped her hands and leaned against the counter as she watched her friend who looked more exhausted than usual.

  Annabelle sighed and rested her head on her palm. “You see what’s happening to Tobias. The new store owner is cutting into his profits after less than two months in business. I wouldn’t be surprised if Tobias ends up closing.” She rubbed at silky flour on the butcher block as she thought. “If I close, someone will start a bakery. I’ve shown there is a demand for one.”

  “I highly doubt they will bake as well as you do,” Leticia said.

  Annabelle shrugged. “That’s because you’re my friend and now my sister and loyal to me. Many excellent bakers live here who haven’t had the opportunity to shine as I have.” She took a deep breath. “I know you understand. You had to give up teaching when you married. I don’t want to give this up yet.”

  Leticia sat on a stool next to Annabelle.

  “I want to save a nest egg. In case …”

  “Because of me. Because you worry something else could happen,” she whispered. She saw the answer in Annabelle’s eyes. “There’s nothing I can do to pay back what the MacKinnons have lost helping me. The need to enter the partnership. The loss of full control of the livery.”

  Annabelle grabbed her friend’s wrist, preventing Leticia from rising and rushing from the room to her daughter. “I want you to understand one thing, if you understand nothing else,” Annabelle said in a low, serious voice. “We lost nothing in helping you. We gained everything.” Their gazes met for many moments. “We would have spent any amount of money to see Alistair happy, with the woman he loves, and the child of his heart.”

  “I hate how they felt compelled to accept the partnership because of me,” Leticia whispered.

  “It’s as much for them too as for you. Cailean wants more free time with me, as Alistair does with you. Did you know, after you married, they were to draw straws every Saturday afternoon to see who got to sleep in with his wife the next morning and who had to work?” She raised an eyebrow as Leticia sputtered out a laugh. “I told Cailean they should have it be every other week as makes sense to me, but they thought such a routine would kill any hope of romance.”

  She and Leticia shared a long look before bursting into laughter.

  Annabelle swiped at her cheeks. “Now with you helping me full time in the bakery so I’m not so tired and Jo … Bears helping at the livery, we will have more time for our families. I think they would have accepted the partnership, without the threat of financial ruin.”

  “You’ve helped me so much. I shouldn’t accept a salary. Especially not for these past weeks.”

  “Of course you should, and you will. Your help is essential for me to remain open.” She met Leticia’s gaze. “I understand a woman wanting money that is not solely from her husband.”

  “He provides well for me,” Leticia protested.

  “Of course he does. But that doesn’t mean that you don’t want to have a little something that is yours. Or to purchase him a gift from your own money, rather than money that he gave you. Or to have some set aside in case of an emergency.” She shrugged. “I learned from my mother that, if possible, a woman should always have a little set aside that was her own. Fate isn’t always kind.”

  After a somber moment, Annabelle forced a smile. “However, it has been kind to you and to me. We married wonderful men, and today we will celebrate.” She rose and accepted a dried bowl from Leticia. “What kind of cookies do you prefer?”

  “Anything but snickerdoodle.” She poked her head into the back room to see Hortence still asleep on the cot. “I hope she rests up as tonight could be a late night for her.”

  “No matter how much she sleeps now, I’m sure she’ll run around so much that she’ll be worn out at her usual bedtime.” Annabelle smiled as she thought about Hortence and her youthful exuberance.

  “Should I go by the Hall and help with decorations?” She frowned as Annabelle burst out laughing.

  “Absolutely not. Sorcha and Ewan are in charge, and I want to see what they deem acceptable for decorations. I also know they’ll nag and bicker until they’re blue in the face, and I have no desire to bear witness to it.”

  “Thank God I have the excuse of helping you in the bakery!” They shared a laugh as they continued to chatter as they prepared for the reception.

  Ewan loitered on the side of the reception hall, leaning against the wall and watching the festivities. Tables with pristine white cloths and bouquets of wildflowers filled the majority of the space. A small area had been left open for dancing later, although Ewan knew the townsfolk would move tables if needed. A long table, filled to bursting with food, was set along one wall with Annabelle’s cake in a place of honor on a nearby small round table. He smiled as he saw Alistair hoist Hortence up, holding her against his shoulder as he and Leticia walked around the room, accepting the well-wishes of all those present. Ewan grimaced. Well, of most of those present as Mrs. Jameson, Helen, and Tobias appeared to have come for the food and drink as they took no delight in the party.

  Ewan took a sip of his drink and eyed an unknown woman wandering among the townsfolk. Her flame-red hair shone like a beacon, and she appeared to have forgotten that she had a pencil stuck behind one of her ears. Her demure brown dress did little to conceal her lush figure. Ewan frowned as he realized she stood behind one group, listening to their conversation. When he saw her smile at something that was said, his frown transformed into a glower.

  Gripping his glass of beer, he wandered over to her. She failed to see him approach as she now seemed focused on listening in on the conversation behind her. “Enjoyin’ yer eavesdroppin’?” he asked and smiled with wicked delight when she jumped next to him, splashing the front of her dress with water.


  “I beg your pardon,” she hissed, her cognac-colored eyes snapping with ire. “I see no reason for you to accost me.”

  “Ye mean, you see no reason for me to interrupt yer bit of snoopin’,” he snapped. “Who are ye? Why are ye at my brother’s reception? This is a gathering for townsfolk only. We dinna know ye.”

  She stood as tall as her five-foot-two-tall frame allowed and met his glare with an equally defiant expression. “I’m the reporter hired to take over the floundering newspaper. I’m getting my bearings.”

  Ewan’s mouth gaped open as he stared at the hand she held out to him. “That was to be a Mr. J. P. McMahon,” he stammered. “A man.”

  A delighted smile lit her eyes with mischief. “I never said I was a man. It’s not my fault if the townsfolk assumed J.P. stood for a man’s name.”

  He glowered at her. “Ye kent ye were trickin’ us! Ye kent what we expected and dinna care that we are disappointed.”

  She sniffed. “It’s not my fault that you built up unrealistic expectations.” She glared at him as he grabbed her wrist to prevent her from walking away.

  “It’s no’ an unrealistic expectation that the reporter hired for the town be a man. It’s a man’s job!” Ewan snapped.

  She straightened her shoulders and stood on her toes as she leaned forward, refusing to back down. “You only believe it to be a man’s job because, up to this point, you’ve only seen a man do it. I will show you how successful a woman can be as a reporter.”

  Ewan and J.P. backed away from each other, and Ewan released her wrist at Warren’s cajoling laugh as he joined them. “I feared some in town would be shocked.” He smiled at J.P. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Miss McMahon.”

  Ewan gaped at Warren. “Ye kent she was a woman!”

  Warren chuckled. “Of course I did. I wrote up the contract. And it’s not my fault if everyone assumed J.P. stood for something other than Jessamine Phyllis.” He pulled at Ewan’s arm and tugged him away from the reporter. He smiled to those around them and nudged at Ewan. “Smile,” he muttered.

  Ewan lifted his lips in a horrible mockery of a smile. Warren rolled his eyes as Cailean joined them. “What has you up in arms?” Cailean asked as he surveyed the crowd. “I know it’s not your usual group, but you’ll be at the Stumble-Out soon enough.”

  “Dinna start,” Ewan said, as he continued to track the reporter’s movement through the room. Cailean followed his gaze and watched him curiously. “That woman’s our new reporter,” Ewan muttered.

  Cailean choked on his drink and then laughed with such vigor that Mrs. Jameson stared at them. When he realized Ewan was serious, Cailean had trouble sobering. After a moment, he swiped at his eyes and looked at Warren. “I suppose you knew all about it.” He shook his head as Warren shrugged. “Well, I hope no one will be upset with you and believe that you willingly tricked us.”

  Warren sighed. “The fact is, I did mislead those in town. However, I know I’ll never be popular with most of the townsfolk. Too may are unwilling to forget my wild antics three years ago. I’m tolerated because they need me. Nothing more.” His gaze followed Helen as she obtained a glass of punch and then returned to stand beside her mother. He then watched Ewan again. “You’re the only free MacKinnon brother now. I’d watch out for Mrs. Jameson and her daughter.”

  Cailean laughed and slapped his youngest brother on the back. “Ewan will never marry. He’s even more of a free spirit than Sorcha.”

  Alistair set Hortence down, and she raced to the side of the room to play with a few of her friends. He gripped Leticia’s hand before kissing it. “Are ye well, my love?” he whispered.

  “Ecstatic,” she said as she squeezed his hand. “This gathering is like a dream to me. I can’t believe we are being feted by those in town.”

  He paused, facing her and ignoring all those around her. “I want ye to never doubt how valued ye are. How much ye are esteemed by the townsfolk.” He brushed at her cheek. “Just because ye are no longer the schoolteacher doesna mean that ye are no’ deserving of respect.”

  She nodded and then stiffened as the new schoolteacher approached. “Hello, Mr. Danforth,” she said as she gripped Alistair’s arm. “I hope you are finding everything to be satisfactory.”

  He nodded at her and then Alistair. “I am. This is a most charming town.” He pushed a pair of wire-rimmed glasses up his nose and peered at her, his chestnut-brown eyes inquisitive. “However, I do have a few questions about the children. I have heard from many parents that you were an exceptional teacher, and they were sorry to see you retire to wed. I was hoping I could meet with you someday soon to discuss the students with you.” He paused. “Congratulations, by the way.” He raised his glass of punch, nearly sloshing it onto Leticia’s sky-blue dress.

  She smiled as she swallowed a giggle at his clumsiness. “How gratifying to hear that I will be missed.” She shared a grin with Alistair. “Of course I’d be pleased to help you as you plan for the new school year. Why don’t you come for dinner on Wednesday?” After he agreed, he moved on to meet others present.

  Her hand tightened on Alistair’s arm as she fought a giggling fit. “Oh my. The children will eat him alive.”

  “He looks like he belongs in a library, not a schoolroom,” Alistair murmured. “I shouldna think we’ll have any trouble with Hortence attending.”

  She and Alistair moved on to speak with others present who waited to wish them well. While she spoke with a pair of parents, Alistair excused himself. He approached the food and drink area, picking up a glass of water rather than the sweet punch and munched on a cookie.

  He wandered from the refreshment table and slipped into the shadows along one wall. “Enjoyin’ yerself?” He smiled with satisfaction as the man next to him stiffened in surprise. Alistair half noticed his brothers moving to stand in front of him, blocking him from view of the revelers in the room.

  “I was,” Walter Jameson hissed.

  “Aye, as was I until I noticed ye had arrived.” He turned to lean on a shoulder so as to better watch the room and to face Walter. “I understand ye spoke with my wife a few weeks ago.”

  Walter laughed. “No crime in a man congratulating a woman on her marriage.”

  “Nae,” Alistair said in a low, lethal voice. “But there is one in threatenin’ a woman with ruin. With disgrace. And finding joy in any fear ye provoke.” His arm lashed out with such speed it was barely visible as he thrust Walter farther into the shadows against the wall, his hand around Walter’s throat. “Ye are no’ good enough to even speak my wife’s name, never mind talk with her.”

  He met the anger and fear in Walter’s eyes. “Ye think because ye have had success in the mines the past few months that it gives ye a right to treat those around ye with even less regard than usual. Never forget. I’m watching.”

  Walter sneered. “As though that scares me. You have no right to threaten me.”

  “I have the right of a husband.” He met Walter’s defiant stare. “These are large woods, Walter. ’Tis easy for a man to go missin’ an’ never be found again. Especially someone as forgettable as you.” Alistair let him go, and Walter’s head thunked against the wall. “Leave me an’ mine alone.”

  Walter nodded as he emerged from the shadows as though he had shared a genial conversation with Alistair and walked away.

  Alistair moved to join Leticia but was soon intercepted and surrounded by his brothers.

  “Are ye all right, Al?” Ewan asked as he pasted on the smile that made him look like an easy mark at the poker tables.

  “Did ye set things straight?” Cailean asked. He smiled at the mothers in town.

  “Aye. I think he’ll leave Leticia alone.” Alistair let out a deep breath. “Thanks for helpin’ me.”

  Cailean slapped him on the back. “Anytime, Alistair, you know that. Besides, that man’s a menace. I hate to think how he treats his sister.”

  Their three gazes turned to watch Walter speaking with H
elen, her face so pale it looked as though she had been gutted.

  “I wonder if we should interfere,” Ewan murmured.

  Alistair shook his head. “I fear ’twould only make it worse. Bullies need to feel strong. This is how he regains his sense of superiority.” Alistair shook his head as he saw that Helen, who he had seen as brave and resolute when she confronted her fears, shrank into herself as her brother continued to speak to her. “Poor lass.”

  “No wonder she dreams of escape from that house. From her mother and her brother,” Ewan said.

  “What worries me is that Fidelia told Belle that the Madam is hoping for a virgin auction,” Cailean said. All three pairs of eyes turned to Helen, cowering in the corner.

  “Ye’d have to be desperate to agree with such a harebrained idea,” Ewan sputtered.

  Alistair shivered. “Aye. I’ve seen what desperation can do to a woman. Poor lass,” he whispered again. “Too bad there isna someone willin’ to help her.”

  Ewan looked at his brothers with wide eyes. “Dinna look at me. I’m not marryin’ her. I’m not savin’ her. I’m not that sort of man.”

  Cailean laughed and squeezed Ewan’s shoulder. “Aye, that I know well. We’ll never attend your wedding as you have vowed to never marry.”

  Alistair sputtered out a laugh as Ewan relaxed with Cailean’s teasing. “I must return to Leticia,” he murmured. He slapped his brothers on their shoulders and rejoined his bride.

  He frowned at the woman speaking with Leticia. “I beg yer pardon. I dinna ken ye.”

  She smiled and held out her hand as a man would. “I’m J. P. McMahon. The new reporter.” When Alistair gaped at her and then her hand, she glowered at him. He belatedly shook her hand and smiled his welcome.

  “Alistair runs the livery with his brother and their partner, Bears. If you ever have any trouble with your horse, he can help you,” Leticia said, her pride glinting in her eyes.

  “How fascinating to have a mixed-blood partner,” J.P. murmured.

  “Bears kens horses.” Alistair shrugged dismissively as he met her curious stare. “Are ye certain ye’re the new reporter? I ken Warren well, and he never said we were gettin’ a woman.” He frowned as he studied her from head to foot.