Page 62 of Beyond Montana's Sky
Cai hadn’t quite admitted the truth before, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to now. But he couldn’t lie about his feelings—not if he wanted Livingston’s approval. “That I am. With your blessing, I’d like to correspond with Edith.”
Livingston raised his hands and shook his head. “I know better than to interfere in my sister’s business. I’d never hear the end of it. However, I would not be opposed to my sister returning to settle in Sweetwater Springs.Ifyou could make her happy.”
“If she’s not, Edith’s apt to make us both miserable,” Cai said wryly.
Livingston chuckled, lowered his arms, and leaned forward. “That she will.”
Hope surged through Cai. He grinned at the man’s mimicry of his cryptic phrasing. “But if—and I know it’s a big if—she’ll have me, I’ll do my best to make her happy.”
“That’s the key to marriage, isn’t it?” Opening one of the desk drawers, Livingston pulled out an envelope and a thick stack of stationery. His brown eyes gleamed with mischief. “Will these be enough?”
Although tempted, Cai didn’t reply, ‘That they will.’One could take this cryptic business too far.“That’ll at least get me started.”
They both laughed.
“I’ll leave you to it.” Livingston rose. “Go ahead and take my seat. Isaac will give you postage.” He strolled around the desk and toward the door. “Give my regards to my sister.”
“Jack says a letter from Edith awaits you.”
“Well, now…guess I’ll pay him a visit.” Livingston sauntered out of the office, closing the door firmly behind him.
Probably laughing his fool head off, as I would be in his place. But I’m lucky he’s willing to help me court his sister.
Cai got up and moved around to Livingston’s seat, taking a minute to admire the glossy wood of the desk, so different from the battered one he used at the ranch. Then he positioned the stationery, pulled the inkwell closer, dipped the pen in the ink, and, tongue-in-cheek began to write.
Dear Edith,
I want you to know how appreciative I was of the long missive you sent me, telling me all about your journey, your reunion with your in-laws, how Ben is doing, what Boston is like, and how you are coping. Your writing was so descriptive and detailed, I could picture everything as if I were there. I hope after you finished you gave your hand a long rest, seeing as how writing for what must have beenhourssurely tired you out.
Your brother has returned from his honeymoon in obvious good health and spirits. I cannot vouch for your sister-in-law because I only saw Caleb, not Maggie. As you can tell by the letterhead, he was good enough to give me this stationery so I could speedily respond to your letter and not make you wait one moment longer to hear about your dear friends in Sweetwater Springs. I wouldn’t want you to forget us.
By the way, your brother sends his regards.
As for me…. The wedding was and still is the talk of the ranch. I think the Anderson ladies have almost accounted for what each person was wearing and doing for every minute from arrival to departure. I, of course, can only remember a few moments, because I was so focused on one lady. I’m not sure I can even recall who all was there or what anyone else but she said, did, or wore.
He took a second page of stationery, dipped his pen in the inkwell, and continued to write.
You might have spotted her. She surely was the loveliest lady I ever did see. She looked elegant and unapproachable in a fancy, pink dress with gold lace and other folderols, with her dark hair all done up formal. I can’t forget her big brown eyes and kissable lips. When we were close, her gaze could soften and pull me close and then seconds later, snap fire and push me away—sometimes within the space of a couple of minutes.
We waltzed, this beautiful lady and I, moving together as if the dance was our hundredth and not our first. I still dance with her in my dreams, for she is gone now, and dreams and memories are all I have left.
I will tell you, those memories are most distracting. Perhaps, if you’re interested, I will share more in the future.
You write me back, hear? And darlin’ Edith, this time, don’t skimp on your words.
Cai
With a bitter smile, Cai waited for the ink to dry before folding the letter into the envelope.
There. I’ve thrown down the gauntlet. Let’s see if Edith picks it up.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Edith stared down at the envelope, the firm handwriting slashing across the front a clue to the sex of the writer. Definitely male. But not her brother’s handwriting.What other man could be writing me on Livingston Hotel stationery?
But even as Edith thought the question, she knew the answer.Cai Driscoll.Her heart started to thump heavy and hard.
I guess he didn’t accept my letter as the end of our association.She wasn’t sure whether to feel dismayed or pleased.
