Page 50 of Beyond Montana's Sky
Ben stepped back. “Jed will take good care of Lightning,” he said with a brave lift of his chin.
“There’s no doubt about that,” she reassured him.
“Matthew promised to visit often and exercise Lightning. Good thing my Falabella isn’t born yet. He or she can belong to Charlotte. When she’s older, she’ll love having her own little horse.” He let out a breath. “I wish I could have taken the baby on her first drive, though.”
Tears blurred her vision, and she blinked them away. “I would have loved to see you do that with our sweet girl.”
He slanted Edith a glance. “At the wedding, I saw you dancing and having fun with a man I’d never seen before. I asked Uncle Caleb who he was. Mr. Driscoll. You stayed at his ranch during the storm. You seemed to really like him, Mama.”
Her stomach tightened.Was I that obvious?
“I do like him.”
“I remember when I was little, and you and papa hosted a dance party. I secretly watched. You looked like that dancing with Papa. Happy.”
Recalling that party made her smile. “I was very happy. That was before your father’s illness. I think that waltz was the last time we danced together.”
“Do you think you can find a man in Boston who will make you that happy?”
She let out a slow breath. “Oh, Ben, young love comes only once in a lifetime.”
He shook his head. “Younglove, maybe. But we know plenty of couples in second marriages who are deeply in love with each other. You can just tell.”
“I know, darling. Your uncle has prodded me on this issue. But I’ll settle for affection and companionship.”
He swung around to face her, his jaw firming. “Don’t you dare settle! I won’t allow it.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Allow? Ben, you sound just like your uncle. Don’t worry. I won’t marry someone you dislike. I promise.”
* * *
The night after Edith left Sweetwater Springs, Cai felt too restless to go to bed. A sudden impulse made him grab his coat and go out to the porch. The moon was as almost as full and bright as two nights ago, when he and the Andersons drove back from the wedding. Even though the night was cold, and the children soon fell asleep, the adults talked and laughed almost the whole way home. He alone remained silent, only chiming in when someone addressed him.
He hesitated on the porch and then sauntered to the barn. His footsteps sounded on the walkway. He pushed open the wide door. The cavernous interior was dark, but he knew the place like the back of his hand. Rascal’s stall was close enough to see dimly by the moonlight falling through the door.
The horse greeted Cai with a long nicker, as if asking what the heck was going on.
“I don’t know, boy. I’m just a bit lovesick.” He leaned to touch his forehead to the gelding’s, inhaling the comforting smell of horse. Raising his head, he patted the horse’s neck.
Rascal dipped his head and nuzzled his arm, searching for a treat.
Cai rubbed his nose. “Sorry, boy. Didn’t bring a carrot. I’ll bring you two tomorrow.”
The horse’s energy restored his sense of calm, at least as much as possible knowing Edith was gone. Cai wasn’t about to go far. He could easily walk. But he wanted the company.
He saddled Rascal and led him outside. Mounting up, he headed toward the hill where just days ago, he’d brought Edith.
At the top of the hill, he reined in and rested his arm on the saddle horn. A breeze ruffled his hair and chilled his face and ears. He hadn’t stopped to pull on a hat or scarf. The Anderson village showed no light. Everyone was peacefully—or so he supposed—asleep.
Overhead, diamonds sparkled in a black swath of sky—the moon, God’s pearl. Inside the eastbound train, even if she were awake, Edith wouldn’t see the sky.Will she miss Montana?
Will she miss me?
Cai didn’t know why he felt compelled to ride there. He couldn’t see Sweetwater Springs from the top. And he certainly couldn’t see Boston. But it was almost like he needed to know she was gone.
To say good-bye. To curse her or thank her.He wasn’t sure which. Probably wouldn’t know for a while. Only time would tell if the lighter spirit Edith Grayson stirred in him would continue or die from lack of air.
After a while, Cai realized he was cold, and, with a heavy heart, he turned the horse toward home.
