Alistair watched them go and shook his head as he studied the older couple.
“What is it, Mr. MacKinnon?” Annabelle asked.
“I’ve been here three years, and I’ve yet to understand them. They just twirled some fantastic tale riddled with half-truths, failing to tell ye about the real founding of this town.” He shrugged. “Perhaps those men existed. But this town never thrived because of them.”
Annabelle frowned. “Why would they do that? And who really started the town?”
He nodded in Irene’s and Harold’s direction. “They and their family helped to settle the area.” He met her shocked gaze with a smile. “I’d guess they don’t want ye to know they are the richest people from here to Butte.” Alistair laughed at her confused expression. “What’s the most profitable business in this valley?”
She shook her head.
“Ranching. And they control almost half the valley. Their family was some of the original free-herders. Came here from Fort Benton on the Mullan Road and thought this looked like a good place to settle. One of their grandsons runs cattle from Texas to Montana now.”
He half smiled as he murmured, “Those would be the tales I’d want to hear.” He nodded his hello as his younger brother approached. “Ewan, I thought ye’d spend the evening at the Stumble-Out.”
Annabelle bit her lip as she fought a smile at the town’s name for the popular saloon.
Ewan laughed and slapped his brother on the back. “Not when I’d miss the year’s best celebration in town. The Fourth of July party next month does no’ match this.” He took a sip of punch and grimaced. “Too sweet. How is it always too sweet?” The fiddlers began to play again, this time a slow waltz. “Miss Evans, would ye honor me?” He winged out his arm and smiled at her as he handed his punch glass to Alistair.
She laughed, slipping her arm through his. He led her to the floor, swinging her into motion as the fiddlers played and the dance area of flattened-down grass filled with dancers.
“Alistair can be almost as serious as Cail at times,” Ewan murmured as he maneuvered her around.
“He’s worried I keep myself separate and that I don’t enjoy life enough.”
Ewan burst out laughing. “Ah, the irony. He worries I enjoy it too much.” He grinned at her, and she giggled as they found their rhythm. “Thanks for savin’ me from the town lasses.” He met her confused stare. “The likes of Helen Jameson are a bit too forward for me.”
Annabelle squinted. “Is she the daughter of that horrid Mrs. Jameson?”
“Aye, her mother is insistent she marry an upstandin’ man. Since Cailean’s rudeness at last year’s Founder’s dance and Alistair’s attachment to Leticia, I fear she’ll set her sights on me.”
Annabelle followed his gaze to a curvy woman in an indigo dress dancing with a miner. Her wheat-colored hair was pulled back in a style resembling a coronet.
“I hope she’s unlike her mother in every regard,” Annabelle murmured.
He shrugged. “I fear she doesn’t ken who she is. Her mother dictates her life for her.” They settled into a quiet camaraderie as they listened to the music. Swallows swooped and dove above them; children squealed and laughed in the distance, and the early evening light cast a gentle glow over them.
“I love it here,” she whispered, forgetting herself and resting her head on his shoulder.
He chuckled. “Ye havena lived through a winter yet. I’ll ask ye in January how ye feel.”
She laughed and continued to sway around the dance floor with him. When the song ended, she smiled at him. She stiffened as a line of men had formed to ask her to dance. She looked at him helplessly, before agreeing to dance with the first in line. She watched Ewan depart to join his brothers on the side of the dance area by the food, Leticia now arm in arm with Alistair.
“What could she be thinkin,’ dancin’ with all those men?” Cailean muttered to his brothers after Leticia moved away to mind Hortence.
Alistair chuckled. “I’d think she’s finally decided to enjoy herself. She’s earned it after the hard work of the past few months.” He nudged his brother in the side. “And I ken ye’re talkin’ about the baker and not yer sister. Although ye should be just as worried about her. Men are fightin’ over the both of ’em.”
Cailean glared at his brothers as Ewan grumbled his agreement to Alistair’s words. “Miss Evans shouldn’t give rise to talk. She doesn’t have brothers to look out for her.”
“It’s dancin’, Cail. Everyone except ye has danced. Asides, she’s single, attractive, and kind.” Ewan eyed his brother with a wicked gleam. “Maybe ye’re jealous.”
Cailean stiffened. “Of course not.”
Alistair bit back a snicker. “Seems to me ye spend an inordinate amount of time worried about the town’s baker. Perhaps ye should spend a little time with her. Other than buying loaves of bread.” He flashed a rare grin and winked at Ewan. “Or Ewan could dance with her again. She seemed partial to Ewan.”
The three men glanced to the dance floor where Annabelle twirled on the arm of one of the miners. She smiled impersonally to the miner and kept him at arm’s length as they moved to the music. Her answers to his questions appeared short and stilted.
“That’s ’cause she kent charm when she heard it,” Ewan said, laughing when Cailean poked him in the side with an elbow.
“I’d take my chance if I were ye. The song’s gettin’ ready to wind down,” Alistair murmured to his eldest brother. He watched Cailean’s jaw tic before he nodded curtly and marched to the dance floor.
Cailean eased around two chattering matrons and men sipping beer from glasses near a keg rolled down from the saloon. He sent a severe stare at the men circling the dance floor, and they backed away as Annabelle was led to the side of the dance area. “Miss Evans.” He watched as she jerked in his direction, not noting his presence. “If I might have the next dance?”
He glared at the fiddlers and then glowered at his youngest brother who slipped them a few coins. A moment later, a waltz started, and he shook his head.
“Do you not want to dance?” she whispered, standing next to him and flushing as a few of the townspeople watched them curiously.
He grabbed her hand and tugged her onto the grass, pulling her close with a hand at her waist. She stumbled over a piece of uneven ground and fell against his chest. “Oomph,” she grumbled. “You don’t have to act like such an oaf.”
“I imagine you believe the miners have better manners.” He twirled them around, joining the others dancing. The faint scent of almond clung to her, and he breathed in the elusive smell.
“In fact, they do.” She eased away from him but was still held close against him. “They understand I don’t wish to be manhandled and towed around like a prized heifer.”
“I’d think you’d be more valuable than a heifer,” he muttered as humor lit his eyes. He grunted as she miscalculated their dance moves and stomped on his instep.
She glared at him, her chin tilted up as she refrained from responding to his question. “You are a boor.”
“Aye.” He sighed. He looked over her shoulder to see his family and Leticia watching him dance with the baker. “We’ve an audience. We don’t want to disappoint.”
“Who says we’re disappointing them?” She tripped again. “Slow down. It’s a waltz, not the galop.” She glared at him as he continued to dance in the 2/4 time of the country dance called the galop rather than the 3/4 time of the waltz.
“I’m no’ the most adept dancer,” he muttered. After a moment of stilted silence, where she tensed further in his arms, he blurted out, “Thank you for attempting to help Sorcha.”
She laughed. “Your sister has less charm than a viper.” She bit her lip as she flushed as red as a ripe stick of rhubarb. “I beg your pardon.”
“I know she has strong opinions and isn’t always kind when she shares them. I apologize if she offended you.” He watched as she broke eye contact and studied the buttons along his shirtfront. “You
should know my brothers and I don’t share her sentiments.”
She shrugged. “She must have her reasons for spewing her venom.”
Cailean waited until Annabelle met his gaze. “Aye. She does. And it has nothing to do with you. Or your sister.” He sighed as the waltz ended. “I thank you for the dance.”
He watched as she nodded and scurried off the dance floor. The evening turned toward dusk, and he saw the women of the town cleaning up the food while the musicians announced they’d play only two more songs. He rejoined his brothers who now stood near the fence by the schoolhouse.
“What did you say to make her run off?” Ewan demanded before he moved away to chat with men who worked for him.
Alistair rolled his eyes as he watched his other brother shrug. “The festivities are about to end. We should ensure she makes it home safely.” Alistair’s eyes lit up as Leticia joined his side, and he hefted Hortence into his arms, where she almost immediately fell asleep against his shoulder. At Alistair’s encouraging look, Cailean sighed.
Dusk had begun to fall, and the swallows now circled around the eaves of the schoolhouse and the nests they had built out of mud there. A light pink tinged the peaks of the distant mountains, and the air cooled. Cailean walked around the back of the schoolhouse to trace the path Annabelle had taken. He came to an abrupt stop to find her sitting on the school’s back steps.
She shivered in the cooling night air, her arms hugging her dress around her legs as she stared at the mountains in the distance. From her vantage point, it appeared that they were dressed in a thick blue-green velvet as the light softened. Only the highest peaks retained any snow.
“Miss Evans,” Cailean murmured. “I hope I didn’t offend you during our dance.” He shifted as he saw her rub away a tear.
“I’m fine.” Her voice emerged as a croaking frog, and she ducked her head. When he crouched in front of her, she did not lean away from him.
“Don’t cry. I’m not worth crying over.” He grinned as his teasing elicited a smile.
“You’ve a big sense of yourself to believe I’m crying over you.” She let out a stuttering breath. “I’m being foolish is all.”
He watched her as he settled into his crouch, his fingers rising to trace her hands clasped around her elbows. “You’re one of the least foolish women I’ve ever met.” His gaze gentled as he saw her take pleasure from his words.
“Why are you here? You barely tolerate my presence in my bakery, and you’ve avoided me since I arrived in town.” She watched him with detached curiosity. Night continued to fall, and the distant sounds of children playing and townsfolk chattering faded away as the party broke up.
“You’re friend to Leticia, and she’s important to Alistair.” He rose when she pushed against his arm and stood next to him. “I think you could be a good friend to us.”
She nodded and wrapped her arms around her middle, watching the distant outline of the mountains darken and become less distinct. “I’ve never been much good at friendship.” She spun to face him at his amused chuckle.
“I see how you are with Leticia and Hortence. How you’d be with Sorcha if she’d let you. Whoever filled your head with such thoughts was a fool.” His hand rose as though of its own volition and traced over wisps of hair that fluttered around her face.
She watched him, mesmerized, as his hand dropped and cupped her cheek. The cautious wariness in his gaze faded as a passionate intensity smoldered. He studied her with a fierce ardor as she stilled under his touch, neither moving toward nor away from him.
After a long, searching glance, he leaned forward, sealing her mouth with his. At the gentle slide of his mouth over hers, she moaned softly and canted forward into his embrace. He slid a hand around her lower back, tugging her toward him, and she stumbled into him. He huffed out a laugh before deepening the kiss, one hand caressing her neck. She latched onto his shoulder, arching into his kiss and touch.
A loud gasp rent the quiet evening air, and they broke apart. “Well, I never,” Mrs. Jameson uttered as she attempted to cover up her delight and yet appear appalled. She relished her role as the town gossip, and this was the first noteworthy event from a rather uninspired evening. She glanced from Cailean to Annabelle, and a sly smile spread. “My mama always told me the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.” She skewered Annabelle with a look as sharp as a dagger. “If you’ll excuse me?”
A subtle quivering worked through Annabelle as she saw Cailean swipe at his mouth and then run a hand through his thick brown hair. He spun as footsteps approached, his hazel eyes daring anyone else to disparage them. His stance relaxed when he saw Ewan. “Take her home.”
Annabelle flinched at Cailean’s sharp tone and flat command. “I can walk there on my own.”
“No, Miss Evans. Cailean is correct, even if he is living up to your assessment and acting like a boor.” He winged out an elbow. “Let me escort you home.”
Cailean speared her with a fierce frown as she took Ewan’s arm and meekly walked beside his brother. He spun and kicked at the side of the schoolhouse once before storming off to return to the livery.
Ewan clasped her hand slipped through his arm and glared at those who muttered uncomplimentary comments. Mrs. Jameson’s gossip had spread like wildfire among the few who had lingered and not ventured home or to the saloons or to the Boudoir. He pushed through the small crowd gathered in front of the schoolhouse, shielding her as she leaned against him. “’Tis all right,” he soothed. “Nothin’ to worry about.”
Annabelle choked out a laugh. “Even you, the perpetually jolly man, can’t lie convincingly. I know I’m ruined.” They walked with alacrity to her bakery.
“Hush,” he whispered as he followed her into the back room of her bakery. “Ye ken no such thing.”
She swiped at her tears. “Of course I do! With my sister and this town’s obsession to determine if I’ll follow in her footsteps, I can do little now to save my reputation and continue working here.” She swung her arm around. “We were discovered by the biggest gossip in town. Everyone will know of my actions by tomorrow. I’ll be surprised if I have any customers.”
Ewan pushed her onto a stool and roamed around the kitchen. He picked up a kettle, setting it on the stove to heat. After following her instructions, he found the teapot and tea, and set out two cups. “I never thought to have a tea party on the night of the town’s anniversary dance,” he mused.
She rubbed at her eyes. “Go home, Ewan. There’s no reason for you to stay.” She jerked at the loud knock at her back door and the sound of someone fiddling with the lock.
Ewan stormed over to the door and flung it open. “Ye’d better leave afore I lose my temper,” he growled. Sounds of retreating footsteps could be heard before only the distant revelry from the saloons carried on the wind. He slammed the door shut again and flipped the lock. “That’s why I’m stayin’ for a while.”
Her shoulders stooped, and she shivered. “Thank you.”
He slammed a fist onto the butcher block. “I’m sorry Cailean’s a fool. I fear I’ll be sayin’ that to ye many a time afore this is over.”
She shook her head. “I’m the fool. I knew better.” She brushed at her tears. “I’ve proved too many in this town right tonight.”
“Only those who have no sense. Many snuck away to steal a kiss.” His soft smile did little to ease her tension.
“Perhaps. But we were the ones who were caught.” She swiped at her disheveled hair.
Ewan sighed. “From what I hear, those who are caught are teased but never ridiculed for long. There’s always another wee scandal to come along.”
She moved around her kitchen area, wiping down the already clean counters and setting out bowls for the morning. “Somehow that fails to reassure me.” She opened a tin and pulled out a few oatmeal raisin cookies, setting them on a plate for him. She poured him a cup of tea, holding her cup so that it warmed her hands. “If you insist on waiting with me, you might as well eat someth
ing.”
He laughed, closing his eyes with pleasure. “Dinner was hours ago, and I’m always hungry.” He gobbled up a few more before finishing his cup of tea. He tilted his head, listening as the sounds coming from the town had quieted. “I think it’s safe to leave ye now. I want ye to lock up after me, and no’ let anyone in until ye open tomorrow.”
Annabelle nodded. “I can’t thank you enough for your help tonight, Mr. MacKinnon.”
He waved away her thanks and exited the back door, waiting until he heard the lock sound before he departed. He looked around to ensure no one hid in the shadows, stayed for a bit more, and then headed for home.
“For God’s sake, Cailean, see sense. Ye canna leave her to the wolves,” Alistair snapped as he slammed a stable door shut in the livery. A horse whinnied in indignation at the sound. “Or to some of the men of this town.”
“I’m no’ marryin’ her,” Cailean said, his accent momentarily as strong as Alistair’s. He took a deep breath. “If ye’re that worried about her, ye can have her.”
Alistair grabbed Cailean by the shirtfront and pushed him against a wooden post. “Ye know I’m promised to Leticia. I’ll no’ betray her for a woman I barely ken. Besides, ye’re the one fascinated enough to stalk her bakery and kiss her tonight.”
Cailean pushed at his brother and strode to the far end of the livery. He glared at Ewan as he eased into the barn. “No one’s making me marry.”
“She’s safe for the night in her bakery,” Ewan whispered, meeting Alistair’s worried look. “I escorted her, scared enough away until I was sure she was settled, and then stood outside long enough that I’m certain she’ll be left alone.” His worried gaze met Cailean’s. “She’d be better off if she left this town and started afresh somewhere else.”
“Or married,” Alistair said with a glower at his eldest brother. Alistair watched Cailean pace, his panic and rage easy to see, and Alistair’s own ire eased. “Cailean, ye have to have known ye’d marry again.”
“Don’t,” he rasped. “I swore on Maggie’s and … and …” He swallowed, unable to speak. “I swore I’d never marry again. I promised Maggie.”
Montana Untamed (Bear Grass Springs, Book One): Bear Grass Springs, Book One Page 9
