Moon Over Montana (McCutcheon Family Series Book 5) (3 page)

Lenore Saffelberg came forward, pad and pencil in hand. “Ready to order?” she asked, looking at Claire McCutcheon.

Charity reached under the table and found Brandon’s hand. If she didn’t know different, he almost looked scared to death. But that wasn’t possible. Brandon didn’t fear anything. She’d learned that firsthand in Texas. He enfolded her hand in both of his and gave it a warm, comforting squeeze. When she cut her gaze over to her father, she found him smiling at them with pride.

“Patience, sweetheart,” Brandon whispered. “Just as soon as Flood orders his dinner, I’ll speak with him.”

When Lenore finished with Claire’s order, she came to Charity. “Welcome home,” she said. A twinkle in the waitress’s eye made her look pretty. “What would you like for supper?”

“Thanks, Lenore. Since this
is
a celebration, I think I’ll have a filet. Petite cut, please. Not quite on-the-hoof red—but pretty close. Just make sure it’s not dead broke. Broke is okay—green broke too.”

Her brothers chuckled at her old girlhood shenanigans. She glanced across the table and winked, waiting to hear the soft
tsk-tsk
she expected from her mother any second. She wasn’t disappointed.

Lenore’s eyebrow arched as she wrote on her pad. “Very well.” A curious smile curled her thin lips. “Mashed potatoes or rice?”

Charity liked Lenore. Even though she teased her sometimes, she knew the sentiment was mutual. The twenty-six-year-old spinster kept to herself and rented one of the small rooms behind the hotel. Her life was somewhat of a mystery, except that she’d come into town alone and was rarely seen anywhere but right here in this dining room. Tonight, her soft-looking mousy brown hair was braided with a yellow ribbon that matched her apron and twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck. She had a sharp tongue at times, but that was mostly with the men.

“Rice, please.”

Lenore moved on to Evie Holcomb. With everyone’s attention shifted to Chance’s new wife, Charity took the opportunity to glance at Brandon. Oh, how she loved this man. With his hat off—a rare occasion—she admired his wavy dark hair, thick and trimmed around his ears. Now she knew why he’d ducked into the barbershop in Denver when the stage stopped. The plans for this welcome-home party must have already been put into motion before then. His return gaze caressed her face, making her insides tingle. As his wife, she’d get to spend hours alone with him. The thought was heady. Imagine that. Day and night in his arms and it would all be perfectly respectable.

Feeling her face heat at her naughty thoughts, she almost giggled. Now she understood her sisters-in-law’s excitement when her brothers were scheduled to return home. They’d spend hours on their appearance, changing their dresses so many times it seemed foolish. Charity used to think they’d lost their souls to her brothers. Now it made perfect sense that what they anticipated was freely given and cherished.

Brandon gave Charity a nod and pushed his chair back. Lost in her own little world, she was surprised to find Lenore had finished and now walked quickly toward the kitchen. Brandon circled the table and whispered into her father’s ear. Flood’s gaze met hers for one split instant, then he nodded and followed Brandon into the hotel lobby.

Charity could hardly breathe. She reached for her water but drew her hand back quickly, as its tremor would surely slosh water onto the tablecloth and everyone would want to know why. She’d best wait until Brandon and her father returned. When Jackson came up to the table with a bottle of wine and a white cloth draped over his arm, she let go a calming breath. The manager’s brow crinkled, looking around for Flood.

“I’ll try the wine,” Matthew McCutcheon said. As the oldest brother, Matt filled in whenever their father wasn’t around. “Pa had some important business he needed to attend to.”

Mark chuckled, and Amy and Faith exchanged expectant smiles. “He’ll be back in a few minutes, I’m sure.”

“Very well,” Jackson said. The dining room host made a show of presenting the bottle to Matt. After her brother nodded, Jackson set about with the corkscrew. He poured a small amount of wine into Matthew’s glass and waited while her brother tasted it.

“This will do very well, Jackson. And I’m sure we’ll need another bottle. This one will barely give us all a taste.”

“Yes, sir.” The short man went around the table to the women first. After he’d finished pouring Charity’s glass, her mother leaned in close.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart. The Texas air agreed with you.”

The compliment soothed away some of Charity’s nerves. “Rio Wells was nice while I was there, Mother, but I can’t tell you how much I missed Montana. There’s nothing like our high mountain air—it’s so clean and fresh. I found myself longing for it more times than I can count.”
Especially when the hot-spring gases drifted over, making the whole town of Rio Wells smell like rotten eggs.

Claire’s smile was understanding. “I so agree with you. But was it just the Montana air that you missed? If you say yes, I’ll be sad.”

“Of course not! I missed my family and friends the most—from the bottom of my heart. Y Knot is all I’ll ever need. I never want to leave again, unless it’s just for a visit. And look what happened while I was gone. Chance has up and found a wife. I’m still amazed.” Chance and Evie were in discussion with Luke and Faith. Charity was certain she and her mother wouldn’t be overheard. “Evie is beautiful. It’s hard for me to picture them together, him being such a shy bachelor when I left.”

Her mother nodded. “Evie was a mail-order bride. She came all the way from St. Louis.”

Distracted, Charity didn’t immediately pick up on what her mother had just said.
How many words does it take to make a man’s intentions known and then ask permission to get married?
She glanced at the lobby entrance in hopes she’d see her father and Brandon returning. Tapestry drapes, carpet, and the shimmering lanterns were her only view.

The comment about Evie finally sank in. “Mail-order bride! I remember seeing the advertisement in the paper sometime in the spring. Well, I’ll be. Chance is braver than I thought.”

“I’d say Evie is the brave one. To leave everything familiar to venture west and marry a man she didn’t know.” Claire shook her head. “That thought is quite amazing. Brave for Chance too, I guess. But not quite the same. With a man outweighing a woman by twice as much sometimes, one has to trust completely.”

Charity didn’t quite understand her mother’s point, but she noticed a slight shadow cross her usually bright eyes. Before she had time to wonder overly long on the matter, her mother smiled. “Look at Chance now. I guess loneliness will do that to a fellow—make him take up the pen and write to a bride agency.” Her mother laughed quietly and patted her hand. “Love is a beautiful thing, sweetheart. And I have more to tell about Hayden Klinkner. We’ll save that for girl talk tonight.”

Shock registered in Charity. “Hayden!” That flirt had promised he’d never settle down. Before she could say any more, Brandon and her father returned from the lobby.

Charity held her breath as they took their seats. She reached over and clutched Brandon’s hand. From the corner of her eye, she saw him swallow.

Flood took his wineglass and stood, holding the goblet high. “I’d like to propose a toast to Brandon and Charity’s return. Y Knot was much too quiet without them. Welcome home.”

Everyone looked at him expectantly, surely thinking he was going to say something else. A moment of fear sliced through Charity’s heart.
Welcome home?
She gripped Brandon’s hand but couldn’t make herself look at his face.

Murmuring filled the silence as the group picked up their glasses, again welcoming the two home. Charity could hardly stand the suspense. Was her father torturing her on purpose? Had Brandon changed his mind at the last moment and chickened out? Her sisters-in-law gazed at her now, as did Evie and her mother.

“
And
,” her father went on in his booming voice.

At the word, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief and some even laughed. They sat straight in their chairs, waiting for Flood’s announcement.

“I’m so proud to offer my congratulations to my beautiful daughter, Charity, and my soon-to-be son, Brandon, on their upcoming nuptials. I couldn’t be happier about it if it were my own wedding to be planned.” He glanced at his wife and winked. “May they be as happy as Claire and I have been for all these years!” Flood waved his arm until Jackson came running. “We’ll need a couple bottles of your best champagne.”

A roar of approval resounded around the table. Charity felt her smile grow wider as a joy she’d never experienced before lifted her heart. Claire got up and pulled Charity to her feet and hugged her. Next, she hurried over to Brandon and did the same.

Finally! Charity and her knight in shining armor had overcome their obstacles and would soon be man and wife. It was right, and felt oh so good.

Luke circled the table to shake Brandon’s hand. “It’s about time, Crawford. I’ve had my money on you for years, but recently started to wonder. Just like Pa, this news is the best I’ve heard all year. When’s the big day?”

When Charity looked at Brandon to see what he would say, she was taken aback. His expression was hard as he struggled to smile.
What’s going on?

“As far as I’m concerned”—she pulled away from Faith and Amy and wiggled close to Brandon—“tonight after supper. We’ve waited long enough and planned all the way from Texas. This is what we want.”

Her mother, who’d followed her, stiffened. “Not on your life, missy,” Claire said. “I’ve only one daughter and I’ve been patiently waiting, probably longer than you have, for this announcement. I want a little time to plan and prepare. One more month won’t kill you and will make me immensely happy.”

“But, Mother, we were counting on right away.” She hugged Brandon’s arm tightly. “Shouldn’t it be up to us if we don’t want a big, fancy wedding? Just a few words with Reverend Crittlestick and all of you as witnesses. Here, tonight. Simple. That is, if the preacher is in town.”

“Hold on, sweetheart. Your mother has a good point. One month is hardly anything.” Brandon put on a good show of smiling, but something behind his eyes scared her to death.

Shocked, she gaped at him. He calmly took a drink of his wine, and settled his glass back on the white tablecloth. She and Brandon had discussed this at length on their way home. Both knew there’d be some resistance from her parents, but he’d promised her they wouldn’t let anyone talk them into waiting. Acknowledging their on-again, off-again history, the best way to make sure the wedding happened was to do it immediately upon their return.

Brandon put his arm around her and gave a squeeze. “Well, Charity, what do you think? Should we give your mother a month as a thank-you for putting up with all our shenanigans over the years?”

What
was
that she saw in the back of his eyes? “We talked this point to death on the stage, Brandon. I can’t believe you’re agreeing.” A bubble of hurt constricted her heart. He was siding with her father and mother already. Maybe that was to be expected. Maybe he felt pressure as the new son-in-law to go along, keep the peace—win their love. He didn’t need to do that. But his searching, whiskey-colored eyes beseeched her, and her resolve crumbled. She was powerless against that expression.

Regret at the thought of waiting outweighed her puzzlement over Brandon’s strange mood. She couldn’t figure him out, but she’d worry about that later. For now, she’d make the best of the situation. Her family had done so much for her; this was the least she could do for them.

She turned and took her mother’s hands in her own. “I think that’s a fine idea. I can just imagine all the tea parties we’ll have going over the details. Fine, one month from today. That will give us time to do everything we need. But not a day more.”

“And we’ll have a party out at our place this Saturday night,” Luke said. “To announce it. Faith and I have had a shindig planned for weeks, to christen our new barn. We’ll use the opportunity to announce the union of our little sister and the sheriff of Y Knot.” Luke raised his glass again. “It took you long enough, Crawford,” he said with a big grin. “Good thing I’m the forgiving type.”

“I just wonder how Francis is going to feel about this.” Chance had been quiet; now his eyes fairly twinkled. A roar of laughter went up at the mention of the ranch’s youngest cowhand, who had been sweet on Charity since before he’d grown facial hair.

“He’ll be brokenhearted, I’m sure,” Mark added. “He’s been dogging our sister’s heels forever.”

Charity laughed along with the rest of them, but her heart wasn’t convinced. Brandon and the peculiar look in his eyes had her rattled.

Chapter Four

L
uke helped Faith out of the wagon by the silvery light of a full moon, and then walked behind as they headed for the front door. Five-month-old Holly was wrapped in a blanket and snuggled against his chest. After the eventful evening at Cattlemen’s, they’d gone by the big house, picked up the children, and made the ten-minute wagon ride out to their new home situated on top of a knoll in the south pasture. In the moonlight, the landscape was beautiful. It never failed to lift Luke’s soul.

He stopped and glanced around. The dark shape of the new barn, a hundred feet away, loomed in a handful of trees. Life was blessed. Not that many years ago he’d felt the outcast, even in his own family. A half-breed trying to prove himself with every breath he took. Then Faith came into his life to buff away his hard edges. It was as if she’d been in his heart all along, tucked away in some secret recess, loving him.

“You coming, slowpoke?” Faith called softly from the front door.

She’d worn a pretty green dress tonight that complemented her caramel-colored eyes. Tendrils of her swept-up mahogany hair had fallen, giving her a tousled, come-hither look that never failed to stir his blood. Three-year-old Dawn was asleep in her arms.