Singing Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series Book 7)

by Debra Holland

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Near the boundary of Green Valley Ranch, Kael worked in the forest, cutting railroad ties. Nearby, he’d stacked a pile of seven ties—nearly a week’s worth of work, given that he also spent time at the house helping his parents. He stood on the larch he’d felled, chopping off the branches with the spikes on his boots digging into the wood. Once only the log remained, he would square the sides. By tomorrow, he should have enough ties to go borrow Tyler or a ranch hand, the Dunn horses, and a wagon to haul the load into town.

  But more importantly, he’d have a chance to see Sophia Maxwell, whom he suspected was staying at the ranch. He wanted to make sure she was all right and, if need be, apologize for kissing her.

  If she weren’t at the ranch, he’d pay a call at the hotel, although the idea of braving the formality of the place caused his insides to curdle. Much easier to visit in a familiar setting.

  Ever since kissing Sophia, the weight of grief had lifted. While he still mourned Gundry’s and Atwell’s deaths and suspected he’d always carry some of those feelings, now he felt lighter, as if he had hope.

  I never in a million years thought Sophia Maxwell would kiss me. He had a hard time reining in his thoughts of what else might be possible. More kisses?

  A kiss was one thing; marriage was entirely different. Could she stoop so low as to marry a poor lumberjack?

  An even harder question was, If she’d be willing to marry me, would I even allow her to do so—to throw away, so to speak, her potential for finding a more equitable match? He caught his thoughts and choked out a bitter laugh at how far his imagination had taken him.

  She’d never have a man who loved her more.

  To close off his imaginings about Sophia, he opened his mouth and started to sing “Beautiful Dreamer” along to the swing and chop of the axe. Stephen Foster’s words rolled out so easily that Kael was on the second verse of the song before realizing he was singing—something he hadn’t done since the accident. I didn’t realize how much I missed this. He broke off and stared unseeing at the forest, remembering a burial where pain and guilt had choked him into silence.

  Kael took in a deep breath, expanded his chest and belly, and sang the first notes of “Amazing Grace.” He increased his volume, singing a bittersweet farewell for two young men gone before their time.

  * * *

  Sophia headed the Falabellas toward the forest in the direction she thought Lily had pointed, determined to search for the way that led to where Kael Kelley lived. The small buggy bounced along the grass, following the faint wagon tracks she hoped led to her goal.

  Hot summer heat beat down, and she was grateful for the broad brim of her white straw hat. The vivid blue sky arched overhead, making her troubles seem small. Surely there must be a song celebrating such a sky. She searched her memory but none immediately came to her. I’ll have several months to think of one. By then, maybe I’ll be able to sing it.

  Earlier, she’d become further acquainted with Lily’s two miniature horses, a stallion and a mare, whom she’d briefly met on her last visit. In keeping with their Argentine heritage, Lily had named them Ricardo and Pilar. Ricardo was black like his sire, Chico, while Pilar had the gray coloring of her dam. Under Lily’s tutelage, Sophia had learned how to start, stop, go left, right, increase or decrease speed, back up, and turn in a circle.

  Today for the first time in weeks, maybe longer, she was alone and relished the feeling. Not until she’d driven away from the barn and set out across the pasture did Sophia realize she’d been carrying a burden—keeping a stiff upper lip. The effort to appear serene—or as close as possible to that state—had taken a toll.

  Now I can just be myself.

  By the time the buggy reached the woods, her arms trembled She pulled the Falabellas to a halt, longing for a rest. Mrs. Pendell had sent along food and cold tea in a Mason jar in case Sophia wanted to stop for refreshment, and she hoped to share the food with Kael. If I find him.

  The little horses lowered their heads to tug on the grass. A breeze tossed the verdant scent her way.

  High above, a lark soared across the azure sky. The whistle of its song cascaded sweet, silvery sounds into the air. An irresistible urge had Sophia taking a supporting breath and opening her mouth to send sparkling notes to twine with the bird’s. Just in time, she caught herself. A hand flew to cover her mouth, as if to physically constrain her voice.

  Sophia let out a long sigh. The weight of despair bowed her head and slumped her shoulders. She closed her eyes and practiced her breathing. Soon, she found herself calming.

  I will not allow my unhappiness to destroy the beauty of this day and my anticipation of finding Kael Kelley. Resolve made her lift her head and stiffen her spine. She flicked the reins, and the Falabellas started up.

  The tracks Sophia had been following led to a small plank cabin with a corral on the side. An even fainter trail ran past the line shack between two trees, turning into a path that looked just wide enough for a buggy. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. She guided the horses toward the woods.

  She held her breath, hoping that her newly-learned driving skills would be enough to see them through. But the Falabellas knew what they were doing and plodded forward without hesitating. A canopy of leafy branches closed over her, showing only glimpses of blue. The spicy fragrance of pine and the earthy scent of mulch led her into another world.

  This setting is like being in a pastoral opera. Perhaps any moment the trees would open up to show a river, where sirens swam and sang to sailors, luring them to their deaths. Sophia realized a tragic opera felt all too real, and she revised her imaginary production. Luring them to love. Or, with a twist, perhaps the sailors were the ones using their songs to lure mermaids to love.

  “Beautiful dreamer out on the sea, mermaids are chanting the wild lorelie.”

  Her arms lowered, and the Falabellas slowed. So vivid was her imaginary opera that a moment passed before she realized the baritone she heard singing “Beautiful Dreamer” was real and not a fictional sailor.

  Intrigued by the beauty and power of the voice, Sophia urged the Falabellas faster along the trail. As the song grew louder, she heard a strange thudding beat in an accompaniment, although she couldn’t imagine what instrument produced the noise.

  A break in the trees showed a manmade clearing, dotted with stumps. Square logs were stacked on one side.

  A lumberjack wearing long johns unbuttoned at the neck, with suspenders holding up his pants, balanced on a log with masculine grace, chopping with one arm, for the other was in a sling across his chest. A red-and-black plaid shirt hung on a tree branch.

  She recognized Kael Kelley right away—his dark, handsome looks and big, muscled body perfectly at home in the woods. Her heart jolted, then leaped to lodge in her throat, and her mouth dried. Mesmerized by the sight, she could only stare. Her stomach tingled, and her pulse quickened.

  He swung the axe, his movements strong yet flowing. She didn’t know which she found more compelling, the ripple of muscles she could see underneath the clinging long johns, or the magnificence of his voice. She could imagine him as Mozart’s Figaro or Don Giovanni.

  Heat flushed through her, bringing a sense of aliveness. Oh, yes! I think a summer flirtation with a lumberjack is exactly what I need!

  Kael bent down to lean the axe against the log, giving her a view of broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist.

  He straightened and stared straight ahead as if thinking. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, and then changed to the song, “Amazing Grace.”

  Sophia sat enthralled, listening to his beautiful voice, and marveled at his stamina and breath control to be able to slash and sing at the same time.

  When Kael finished the hymn, he switched to “She’ll be Coming ’Round the Mountain.”

  He must like the music of Stephen Foster.

  The song trailed off, and the man bent his head.

  Ricardo stamped and stretche
d to sample a tree leaf.

  “Who’s there?” Kael jumped off the log and stalked toward her.

  Caught spying, Sophia flicked the reins to drive into the clearing, knowing her cheeks must show guilty scarlet, and reined in. Deciding to be bold, after all she’d kissed the man, she directed a flutter of eyelashes and a flirtatious smile his way.

  He stopped abruptly, taking a step back, as if struck by a blow from his own axe.

  The familiar power of her femininity, a feeling she’d thought lost, bubbled within her. On the brink of uttering a throaty-voiced, “Hello, Kael,” Sophia remembered, to her chagrin, that she couldn’t speak. With an almost audible pop, pop, pop, her spirits flattened, only to fizz up again when she saw the obvious pleasure in his grin.

  “Soph—, ah, Miss Maxwell, what are you doing here?”

  Looking for you.

  As if belatedly realizing his unclad state, Kael looked around for his shirt. He rushed over to grab it from the branch, and then started to put it on—only to obviously realize he couldn’t do so one-handed. Instead, he draped the shirt across his front.

  Sophia held in a smile at his modesty. He had no idea she saw men clad in less all the time. Sometimes, the need for hasty costume changes meant actors stripped in the wings.

  Most opera singers did not appear at their best in a toga or other costume that exposed limbs or even a chest. She suspected Kael would make quite a stunning sight wearing the costume of a mythical god. Although not a tenor, he’d certainly appear as a well-formed Siegmund—far more attractive than Lorenzo Laurence.

  She set the brake of the buggy, tied off the reins, tugged off her driving gloves, and gathered her skirts in a move to climb out.

  He dropped his shirt and lunged forward to hold out a hand.

  Sophia clasped his, feeling the hard ridges on his palm. A firm masculine hand, unlike any she’d ever held. Her heart fluttered. She stepped down and didn’t let go for a moment, feeling the connection flow between them. Does he feel it, too? She thought Kael did, for his eyes stared intently into hers, and he leaned forward just an inch, as if having to restrain an urge to kiss her.

  Reluctantly, she released him.

  He stooped to grab his shirt. “Do you make a habit of appearing in places you’re not supposed to be?”

  She raised her eyebrows and gave him a sultry smile. How’s that for an answer? Reaching up, Sophia took his shirt. Let me help you.

  He didn’t release the garment, forcing her to frown and tug. He raised his eyes heavenward, as if in appeal, but released the shirt.

  Sophia wondered how good he’d be at reading her mind. As good as my sisters or Blythe? Stretching her arms high, she held open the shirt, in the same way a man would help her don her coat, then realized it would probably be easier to start with his broken arm and ease up the shirt over his plaster of Paris cast. She tapped the sling.

  Keeping his eyes on her, Kael lifted both arms, slipping the sling over his head, and then gingerly lowered his injured one.

  Careful to not jar him, Sophia slid the suspenders over his shoulders, and then slipped the sleeve over his hand and the cast, feeling the intimacy of dressing him as if she were his wife. She marveled at the broad span of his fingers and wondered how such big, calloused hands would feel on her skin. Heat rose in her cheeks again, and she kept her eyes focused on her task, lest she look up and show her reaction.

  When she had settled the shirt over his shoulder, Kael stretched back the other arm so she could maneuver the sleeve up to his shoulder.

  Once the shirt was on, she reached to button up the front, risking a brief upward glance. The intensity in his eyes sent a flutter up her spine. This time, with a smile, Sophia held his gaze, her fingers moving by feel for each button in the process gliding over the hard muscles of his chest and stomach.

  With his free hand, Kael tucked the back of his shirt into his waistband then turned away to shove down the front.

  Sophia finished dressing him by pulling the suspenders up and over his shoulders and then sliding a palm down one of the front straps.

  His hand covered hers in a stopping motion.

  Sophia glanced up to see his hot, dark gaze, and a tremor rocked her.

  “I intended to call upon you tomorrow.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, searching her face. “I wasn’t sure whether I needed to apologize for taking advantage of you after such a difficult situation.”

  Are you sorry we kissed? She tapped her chest and, with a delicate touch, laid a finger on his lips.

  “I know you kissed me. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t regret it.”

  She shook her head and smiled. No regrets.

  His shoulders relaxed. “Well then. Ah….” Evidently, not knowing what to say, he cleared his throat. “I’d like to call upon you when I’m at the Dunn ranch.”

  Accustomed as Sophia was to sophisticated men, she found Kael’s awkward formality refreshing and endearing, which melted any resistance, if, indeed, she’d even felt any. She smiled and nodded.

  He grinned. “Wonderful.”

  And I’d like to visit you. She pointed to the buggy and circled her hand, indicating the clearing. She tapped his chest.

  Frowning, he placed a hand over hers, pinning her fingers to his chest. “As much as I’d like that, you mustn’t come here. We can’t risk your reputation.”

  She raised her eyebrows and shoulders, and opened her free hand, palm up. Who would know?

  “No, Sophia.” His firm tone belied the longing in his eyes. He raised her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss on her palm.

  A ripple of response swirled in her stomach.

  That she couldn’t bend a man to her will was rare, one disastrous exception being Warwick Canfield-Prendergast. But I didn’t flirt with him. Nor did I listen to my instincts about the man.

  Kael’s strength of character to stand against her charm both annoyed and impressed her, especially when he obviously wanted to give in. Deciding she needed more than gestures, she pulled her hand from his, returned to the buggy for her pad of paper and the pencil, and then moved to sit on the log Kael had been shaping.

  “Good idea.” He jerked a thumb toward the Falabellas. “While you write out what you want to tell me, I’ll see to the comfort of Ricardo and Pilar.”

  Sophia nodded. Placing the tip of her pencil against the paper, intent on conveying her feelings, she paused. First I have to figure out what I want to tell him. She tapped the end of the pencil against her lips, formulating what she wanted to say. Then she began to write down her thoughts.

  I almost died, Kael. My voice is lost, perhaps never to return. My philosophy of life has changed, although to what, I’m not sure I yet know. I appreciate that you’re trying to protect my reputation. But I don’t care about the gossip of people in this small, provincial town, especially those who don’t know me. I’ve been judged and sometimes found lacking by critics before.

  Sophia winced, remembering a scathing review of her first performance, when she’d experienced opening night jitters and the tightness reflected in her voice. The critic’s harsh words went straight into her vulnerable heart. She’d broken down and cried to Fritz, believing she had not lived up to everyone’s high expectations, and thinking her career was over. Fritz’s support had bolstered her courage and given her strength to continue. Before long, she’d turned that critic into a devotee. She’d learned a hard lesson from the man about toughening herself to deflect others’ deleterious opinions.

  Again, Sophia began writing. Entering into this beautiful forest brought me into another world, one that has made my imagination soar. Such a wonderful feeling, especially after all I’ve been through, that I wish to experience again.

  Lily tells me your family loves these woods, so you know them well—probably as well as I know my neighborhood in Chicago. Just as I could give you a tour of the sights of my city, I’d like you to guide me through the forest and show me the places that have meaning to you. Please brin
g beauty into my life, which has become so bleak!

  The crunch of breaking twigs made her look up to see Kael returning. He cocked an eyebrow and placed his foot on the log, propping an elbow on his knee and leaning forward. “You writing me a book?” He reached out a hand.

  She smacked his arm with the pad but let him take it.

  Kael read her impassioned plea and then looked up. He studied her, a serious expression on his face.

  She waited for him to speak, her heart beating fast.

  He remained silent, as if thinking, and then lowered the pad. “Whether or not your voice returns, and I do believe it will, you’re so persuasive, I think you could become a lawyer if you change your mind about singing opera.”

  His unexpected reply made her burst out silently laughing. Her sense of merriment was so strong, Sophia covered her mouth with her hand lest she lose control and utter a sound.

  His face remained deadpan, but his eyes twinkled. Then his expression tightened. “I’m not fit company for you.”

  She frowned and scribbled a question. Because you’re a lumberjack?

  He hunched his shoulders. “They call us Timber Beasts.”

  Intrigued, she slanted a look at him.

  “Loners, poor-mannered, fighters, drinkers…. Lumberjacks are inclined to be silent, if not morose. We’re worse than cowboys.” Kael flashed a sly grin. “They, at least, will talk to their horses.”

  You’re not that way! Sophia wrote. She just knew Kael wasn’t. She shoved the pad into his hands.

  Reading her statement seemed to make him feel better, for he straightened his shoulders and returned the pad.

  She used it to playfully smack him on his good arm.

  “My lady, will you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you through my kingdom?” he asked in a teasing tone, flinging his arm wide to encompass the forest.

  She could almost imagine him flipping back a cape and doffing his hat with a bow.

  He sent her a cheeky grin. “I’ll take the utmost care to guide and guard you, while at the same time respecting your personage.”