Moon Over Montana (McCutcheon Family Series Book 5)

by Caroline Fyffe

  A roar of approval resounded around the table. Charity felt her smile grow wider as a joy she’d never experienced before lifted her heart. Claire got up and pulled Charity to her feet and hugged her. Next, she hurried over to Brandon and did the same.

  Finally! Charity and her knight in shining armor had overcome their obstacles and would soon be man and wife. It was right, and felt oh so good.

  Luke circled the table to shake Brandon’s hand. “It’s about time, Crawford. I’ve had my money on you for years, but recently started to wonder. Just like Pa, this news is the best I’ve heard all year. When’s the big day?”

  When Charity looked at Brandon to see what he would say, she was taken aback. His expression was hard as he struggled to smile. What’s going on?

  “As far as I’m concerned”—she pulled away from Faith and Amy and wiggled close to Brandon—“tonight after supper. We’ve waited long enough and planned all the way from Texas. This is what we want.”

  Her mother, who’d followed her, stiffened. “Not on your life, missy,” Claire said. “I’ve only one daughter and I’ve been patiently waiting, probably longer than you have, for this announcement. I want a little time to plan and prepare. One more month won’t kill you and will make me immensely happy.”

  “But, Mother, we were counting on right away.” She hugged Brandon’s arm tightly. “Shouldn’t it be up to us if we don’t want a big, fancy wedding? Just a few words with Reverend Crittlestick and all of you as witnesses. Here, tonight. Simple. That is, if the preacher is in town.”

  “Hold on, sweetheart. Your mother has a good point. One month is hardly anything.” Brandon put on a good show of smiling, but something behind his eyes scared her to death.

  Shocked, she gaped at him. He calmly took a drink of his wine, and settled his glass back on the white tablecloth. She and Brandon had discussed this at length on their way home. Both knew there’d be some resistance from her parents, but he’d promised her they wouldn’t let anyone talk them into waiting. Acknowledging their on-again, off-again history, the best way to make sure the wedding happened was to do it immediately upon their return.

  Brandon put his arm around her and gave a squeeze. “Well, Charity, what do you think? Should we give your mother a month as a thank-you for putting up with all our shenanigans over the years?”

  What was that she saw in the back of his eyes? “We talked this point to death on the stage, Brandon. I can’t believe you’re agreeing.” A bubble of hurt constricted her heart. He was siding with her father and mother already. Maybe that was to be expected. Maybe he felt pressure as the new son-in-law to go along, keep the peace—win their love. He didn’t need to do that. But his searching, whiskey-colored eyes beseeched her, and her resolve crumbled. She was powerless against that expression.

  Regret at the thought of waiting outweighed her puzzlement over Brandon’s strange mood. She couldn’t figure him out, but she’d worry about that later. For now, she’d make the best of the situation. Her family had done so much for her; this was the least she could do for them.

  She turned and took her mother’s hands in her own. “I think that’s a fine idea. I can just imagine all the tea parties we’ll have going over the details. Fine, one month from today. That will give us time to do everything we need. But not a day more.”

  “And we’ll have a party out at our place this Saturday night,” Luke said. “To announce it. Faith and I have had a shindig planned for weeks, to christen our new barn. We’ll use the opportunity to announce the union of our little sister and the sheriff of Y Knot.” Luke raised his glass again. “It took you long enough, Crawford,” he said with a big grin. “Good thing I’m the forgiving type.”

  “I just wonder how Francis is going to feel about this.” Chance had been quiet; now his eyes fairly twinkled. A roar of laughter went up at the mention of the ranch’s youngest cowhand, who had been sweet on Charity since before he’d grown facial hair.

  “He’ll be brokenhearted, I’m sure,” Mark added. “He’s been dogging our sister’s heels forever.”

  Charity laughed along with the rest of them, but her heart wasn’t convinced. Brandon and the peculiar look in his eyes had her rattled.

  Chapter Four

  Luke helped Faith out of the wagon by the silvery light of a full moon, and then walked behind as they headed for the front door. Five-month-old Holly was wrapped in a blanket and snuggled against his chest. After the eventful evening at Cattlemen’s, they’d gone by the big house, picked up the children, and made the ten-minute wagon ride out to their new home situated on top of a knoll in the south pasture. In the moonlight, the landscape was beautiful. It never failed to lift Luke’s soul.

  He stopped and glanced around. The dark shape of the new barn, a hundred feet away, loomed in a handful of trees. Life was blessed. Not that many years ago he’d felt the outcast, even in his own family. A half-breed trying to prove himself with every breath he took. Then Faith came into his life to buff away his hard edges. It was as if she’d been in his heart all along, tucked away in some secret recess, loving him.

  “You coming, slowpoke?” Faith called softly from the front door.

  She’d worn a pretty green dress tonight that complemented her caramel-colored eyes. Tendrils of her swept-up mahogany hair had fallen, giving her a tousled, come-hither look that never failed to stir his blood. Three-year-old Dawn was asleep in her arms.

  Colton stood at her side, holding the baby’s sack.

  “What do you see?” she asked.

  “More than I could have ever hoped for,” he replied as he came forward. “I see a family where there was once a lonely man. The summer you showed up, my life changed. And our struggles are what led me to the truth about my real father.”

  After his mother’s revelation that starry night at the horse corral, he’d shared the secret with Faith, knowing she’d keep it safe. It would be impossible not to tell her the reason why he’d been set free of his demons. His mother’s admission lived in his heart, where he revisited it often.

  He stopped and kissed her cheek.

  “Is that all?” she asked.

  “Ma, I’m going to bed,” Colton interrupted, probably used to his parents’ long conversations. His clothes were rumpled and his light brown hair mussed.

  “Of course,” Faith replied. She kissed him and traced a little cross on his forehead. “Sleep with the angels, sweetheart.”

  “Good night, son,” Luke said. “We’ll get that saddle on War Bonnet tomorrow. He’s just being obstinate, sort of like his owner.”

  A crooked smile pulled at Colton’s lips. “Good night, Pa,” he said sleepily.

  At ten, Colton had grown a whole four inches this year, but his voice had yet to drop. Luke’s nephew Billy’s had, much to Colton’s dismay. Luke could tell it bothered his adopted son. Colton and Billy had a standing competition—all good-natured, of course, but still it was there.

  Careful not to wake Holly in his arms, Luke closed the front door gently.

  At the foot of the stairs, Faith turned. “I’ll get this sleepy girl to bed,” she said, rocking Dawn, whose head rested on her shoulder. The toddler’s eyes were closed fast and her mouth looked like a little O as she dreamed. “And then I’ll be back and feed Holly. Do you mind holding her for a few more minutes, Luke? Can the horses wait?”

  “Do I ever grow tired of cuddling my little girl?” He’d learned the hard way to keep his voice down. Holding and rocking was much easier than dealing with a fussy cherub who’d had a few minutes of rest and was too wound up to fall back to sleep.

  “The team will be fine. They’ve probably already fallen asleep in the harness.”

  “Thank you.”

  With Faith and Colton gone, he walked around the living room, a sense of pride filling him as he took the place in. He laid Holly on the sofa for half a minute while he lit two lanterns. The room was still a bit bare, but the essentials were all there since they’d completed construction a year a
go. He admired the large logs he’d gathered on his own that spanned the length of the living room ceiling. The room, much smaller than the home he grew up in, felt cozy and spacious at the same time. He and Faith had gone into Bozeman to order some furniture, but the place still echoed a bit, needing a few paintings and rugs. All in good time, he thought, all in good time.

  “I’m back,” Faith called, coming down the stairs. Her face, full of love, was a sight he never grew tired of seeing. Finding her in that dilapidated old wagon had been the luckiest day of his life. She took Holly from his arms.

  “Are you going to feed her out here?” He looked around the room.

  She nodded. “I thought I would. In the chair by the window.”

  He followed her over and sat on the end of the brown sofa closest to her. She undid the buttons at her bodice, and when she was ready, opened up some of Holly’s warm blankets and gave her a little jiggle. She fanned her hand in front of the sleeping baby to draw cool air across her face. It took several tries before the infant was awake enough to take what her mother was offering.

  “What do you think about the big news tonight?” Faith said, once she’d settled in. “I’m sure you weren’t surprised.”

  A smile lifted his mouth. “Not at all. Pleased—but wary too. I kind of wish Mother hadn’t insisted on the month. You know them as well as I do. A lot could happen between now and then.”

  “Oh, certainly not, Luke. They’ve put those childish days behind them. I could tell by the way they looked at each other. Has your father said anything more about the acreage near town?”

  “No. But I’m sure that will be something we touch on tomorrow. He’s done a fine job of keeping Charity from the truth about the land we’re donating to Y Knot for development. Ten of those acres will go to the town and the other fifty will go to Brandon and Charity. That way, she’ll be able to start building a ranch of her own, as well as keep her hand in running the Heart of the Mountains. Brandon will be close enough so that it won’t put a strain on his being sheriff. It’s been a miracle she hasn’t caught on sooner.”

  Faith sighed. She leaned over and kissed the top of Holly’s head as she nursed. “It will be a wonderful surprise.”

  “I hope so. Until they say ‘I do,’ this lump in the pit of my stomach isn’t going away. What Charity needs is one or two of those.” He gestured to Holly. “To finally be good and married.”

  Faith gave him a stern look. “Is that what you think of me, Luke McCutcheon? A settled old mare with no kick left to surprise you?”

  He jerked up straight. “No! Not at all,” he hurried to say. Faith was never predictable—so far from it. He looked for ways to keep her happy and content.

  Faith laughed softly. “Good. You better say that.” She gazed down at Holly and caressed her hair. “Charity will be a good mother, but not until she’s ready. I sort of agree with you on wishing they’d tied the knot tonight. But since it didn’t happen, I’m looking forward to the barn party and announcing the news to anyone who hasn’t yet heard—not many, I’m sure. This month will prove to be long with all of us on pins and needles.”

  “We’ll just have to make sure nothing derails their plans. Maybe you can spread the word with Rachel and Amy, and I’ll do the same with Mark and Matt.”

  A soft tap on the door disturbed their conversation.

  Faith’s eyes widened. “Who could that be at this time of night?”

  Luke stood and went to the door. “Who’s there?”

  Even on the ranch, one had to be careful at night. Most Indians were peaceful, but an occasional renegade still made trouble now and then.

  “Roady.”

  Luke opened the door after Faith covered up with Holly’s small blanket.

  “I’m sorry to barge in this late,” Roady began, looking back and forth between Luke and Faith. He removed his straw hat, holding it in his hands. “All the windows at the big house were dark, so I rode over here. Since the buckboard is still out front and your lights burning, I didn’t think you’d mind.” He motioned to the two lanterns, one on the rock mantel and another on the supper table.

  “Of course we don’t mind. Come in.” Luke opened the door wide and gestured for their top cowhand to enter. Roady’s rumpled denims and solid blue shirt had seen a long day’s work. A black neckerchief was tied around his neck.

  He stepped into the room but stayed on the small rug, mindful of his dirty boots. “I don’t mind putting the wagon up when I leave.”

  “No, thanks. I’m on my way out just as soon as Faith puts Holly to bed. We were talking about Brandon and Charity. They finally announced their intention to marry. That move has been a long time coming. I guess Brandon finally got her to say yes out in Texas.”

  Roady grinned. “Glad to hear it. I’ll go into town tomorrow and buy Brandon a beer. Taking on your little sister is no small feat.”

  “Hey,” Luke warned goodheartedly.

  “Knowing those two, I’m sure they have a surplus of humorous anecdotes to tell about John and Rio Wells.”

  “And some not so humorous,” Faith said softly. “I’m amazed at the trouble Charity can get herself into—and out of—without even trying.”

  “With Brandon’s help,” Luke and Roady said at the same time.

  Roady chuckled and cuffed Luke on the shoulder. They still stood by the door.

  “What’s your news that couldn’t wait until morning?”

  “Pedro found two steers with lumpy jaw in the second heifer pasture. He roped ’em and drug ’em back to the ranch, and put ’em in a separate corral at the main house. That was late this afternoon.”

  “What’s lumpy jaw?” Faith asked.

  “A condition the cattle can get in the soft tissue around their molars,” Luke said. “If they have a puncture or wound from eating foxtails or rough forage, infection can set in. If it goes untreated, it’ll fester, and the infection will spread to the other cattle from pus on the ground as they graze. Usually a treatment of iodine is all it takes to knock it out.”

  “But if it’s let go,” Roady added, “the infection calcifies. Big ol’ lumps form that feel like rocks. The poor critters can’t breathe, can’t eat, and soon it’s a total loss.”

  Luke nodded, thinking of all the possibilities. “It usually happens in two- and three-year-olds that are losing their baby teeth. Still could affect the whole herd if we don’t take some quick action.”

  Roady ran a hand over his tired face. “This is the first case I’ve heard of in Montana.”

  “Last year in Wyoming, it got serious enough to make the papers.” Luke looked at Roady. “Pass the word to all hands that if they see any questionable stock, they’re to bring ’em in. Anything they’re not sure about, take to Mark’s corral, and the affected animals to the sick corral at the home ranch. I’ll let Pa know first thing, and we’ll have a ranch meeting tomorrow afternoon in the bunkhouse.”

  “Got it.” Roady secured his hat back on his head. He looked at Faith and smiled. “Sorry to interrupt your evening, Faith.”

  “That’s never a problem, Roady. You know that.”

  “Good night, then.” Roady turned and reached for the doorknob.

  “You heading to bed?” Luke asked. He hadn’t had a chance to stop by the bunkhouse and check the schedule for a few days. With completing the barn and then working Colton’s new horse, life had been busy. Now, with the lumpy jaw appearing in the herd, life would get busier.

  “Back to the bunkhouse.”

  Roady left and Luke closed the front door. Leaning to the side was the wooden bar that he’d drop into place just as soon as he dealt with the horses. Slowly, he reached out and touched the sturdy barrier, thinking how his ma had tried and failed to protect herself against her abductors all those years ago.

  “What is it?” Faith asked.

  When he looked over, a scrunch of worry marred her brow. She could read him like a book.

  “Nothin’,” he replied with a smile.

&n
bsp; He crossed the room and sank back into the sofa. The sight of his pretty wife did little to replace the niggling sensation of trouble in his gut. As hard as he tried, tonight that was impossible to do.

  Chapter Five

  After seeing Charity off with her parents, Brandon made one more fast visit to the jail. Jack was gone. The lamp left burning in the window cast a lonely light around the brick room. The jubilation he’d expected to feel on his return was dampened by the envelope burning a hole in his back pocket. With the wedding announcement, the meal, and the evening that had sped by so quickly, he’d hardly had a chance to think about what the letter might mean with respect to his and Charity’s life.

  He went to the back of the room and pulled open the solid, steel-fortified door. Dank air stirred in the short hallway. Three jail cells lined the right side. Each had a cot and blanket, a wooden bucket for drunkards’ vomit, and a chamber pot. Beyond the bar-lined window was a view of Half Hitch Street and the livery. A light winked on in the rustic two-story barn. June Pittman must still be working.

  Restless and not yet ready to open the letter, he turned on his heel. June would fill him in on the comings and goings of the regular folk while he’d been away. It wasn’t until he was across the street that a deep male voice drifted out from the livery. By June’s girlish laughter and quick, teasing tone, this fella might be more to her than just an acquaintance.

  His curiosity pricked, Brandon paused at the open double doors. His gaze swept the large straw-strewn barn. June sat on a stall divider, an unknown man standing a foot away. With all their talk, they hadn’t noticed his arrival.

  “Good evening,” he said.

  “Brandon!” June hopped down and rushed over to give him a hug. “Welcome home! It’s darn good to see your face back in Y Knot!”