Page 4 of Beyond Montana's Sky
Remember? Oh, dear, had he also lost a sister?
Mr. Driscoll pulled Ahab to a standing position, ducked, and lifted the man over his shoulder.
One of Ahab’s arms knocked off the black Stetson.
Edith hurriedly thrust Mr. Hardy’s invitation at Sheriff Granger. “Will you give this to him?” She tilted her head toward the barkeep.
“Will do.”
Edith stooped to pick up the hat, and then found herself going around Mr. Driscoll and his unconscious burden to hold open the door. Finally, she followed the men outside.
Mr. Driscoll heaved Ahab over the side of the wagon onto a bed of straw and positioned him on his back. For a moment, he paused, looking down at his employee, a pained expression on his face.
This man has unexpected depths.She didn’t know why the thought came to mind. Nor could Edith fathom why she even cared.But I do.“Here you go, Mr. Driscoll.” She handed over Ahab’s hat.
“Call me Cai.” He winked. “I’m sure we’ll be fine friends.” He took the hat and dropped it over Ahab’s face to shelter him from the sun. He walked around Edith and climbed into the wagon seat, untied the reins, and unlocked the brake.
Suddenly, Edith remembered she held the envelopes. She waved the invitation for his attention. “Mr. Driscoll, you’re forgetting this!”
“I only answer to Cai.”
She huffed.
He chuckled. “Bring it out to my ranch, Mrs. Grayson. You’re welcome at any time.”
I most certainly will not!“I’ll leave the invitation in your mail box at the train station.”
“Well, then, I’ll probably get it in a month or so when I send someone for supplies.”
Once again, the grin he flashed tickled something in Edith’s midsection that she refused to acknowledge. “But that will be too late.”Why does the man have to be so stubborn?
He shrugged.
Edith stepped closer and flapped the envelope. “Mr. Driscoll, I insist you take this invitation now.”Don’t make me run after you.Not that she would do any such outlandish thing.
With another charming smile and a wink, he flicked the reins. The horses started walking, and he left her standing, arm still raised.
Mouth agape, she stared after him. Then she caught herself, lowered her arm, and snapped her jaw shut. Proper Edith Livingston Grayson didnotmake such a ridiculous facial expression.Except, apparently, when flabbergasted by Cai Driscoll.
She made a determined mental note to avoid the man at all costs. Glancing down at the invitations she still held, Edith almost groaned, and perhaps would have actually done so if ladies were allowed to utter such animalistic sounds. Instead, she let out a sharp breath of annoyance.
With a disapproving shake of her head, she rearranged the stack, putting Mr. Driscoll’s on the bottom.
I’ll send Ben with the invitation tomorrow. That man can’t possibly refuse my son, if he drives all the way out to the ranch, wherever it’s located.
Edith didn’t stop to think why Cai Driscoll’s attendance at the wedding had suddenly become so important.
* * *
Twenty minutes ago, if you’d have told Cai he’d be driving away from Sweetwater Springs with a wide, gol-darn grin splitting his face, the heavy weight on his chest that pressed down on him for months lifted, and a big ball of laughter in his stomach threatening to burst and bubble out, he might not even have bothered to call you a liar. He’d just have pulled out his Colt and taken a shot at you. With the lower-than-dirt mood Cai had been in when he drove to town, there’s no way he would have missed.
Then he’d laid eyes on Edith Grayson, an obvious lady standing outside the saloon, and something in his gut clenched, and his mouth dried. He thought back to the astonished look on hoity-toity Edith Grayson’s lovely face. The lady had perfected cold, attempted to cast her chilly attitude his way, but the more she tried, the more warmth spread through his body.
Remembering the shock in her big brown eyes, the way her full, pink, and oh-so-kissable lips pursed in disapproval made him lose the battle with his dormant sense of humor. He barked out one guffaw and then another. Laughing felt so good, so…alive, that Cai let loose with a third bellow and a fourth, startling into the air a cluster of brown wrens perched on the branch of a nearby red-leafed maple.
I probably sound like a fool wolf baying at a full moon. Anyone listening would lock me up in the loony bin.
But he hadn’t grinned, much less laughed in ages, although he’d faked a few smiles for his sister Aurelia’s sake. He racked his brain trying to think of his last bout of genuine amusement but couldn’t recall any such moments. Certainly before Doc Cameron took him aside to impart the news that hisbabysister—for all she was seventeen years old—wouldn’t last out the winter.
