Mystic Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series Book 6) by Debra Holland Page A
Authors: Debra Holland
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whether she should confront the woman, grab her baby, and leave, or step back and shut the door, pretending she hadn’t heard this conversation.
Caleb gazed down at the baby. “It is impossible to explain, even to myself. Charlotte is not my daughter by blood, but my feelings for this child are familial, indeed.”
With a bittersweet feeling of sadness, Maggie wished Charlotte had a father who loved her in the way this man did.
Edith fisted her hands on her hips. “What has come over you?” she snapped. “You never held Ben when he was a baby.”
“That was sixteen years ago, Edith. Allow me to have acquired some life experience since then.” He dropped a kiss on Charlotte’s forehead. “I wish I had held Ben when he was a baby. I didn’t know what I was missing.”
“I think that woman—” Edith’s voice trembled “—has bewitched you.”
“Perhaps she has. Or her daughter is magic. Or both.”
Was that amusement in his tone?
“But I’ll tell you this. I saved Charlotte’s life, but somehow. . . .” Here, he paused, his voice dropping low. “Edith, somehow she has changed mine.”
Edith opened her mouth, as if to scoff. She frowned and glanced at the baby.
Thinking what? Maggie wondered. It was true her baby had marked him. She had glimpsed genuine warmth when Caleb held or even looked at Charlotte.
Caleb gave his sister a beseeching look. “Can I call upon you to support Mrs. Baxter during her convalescence?”
“For the convalescence, certainly. But, you can’t allow an unknown lower-class woman and baby to stay here for longer.”
“Would it have made a difference if she were fashionably dressed, Edith? You were quite eager to accept the Bellaires.”
“Yes, and look what came of that.” Edith’s words dripped disdain.
“This is my house.” Caleb obviously strove to keep his tone reasonable. “I will do whatever I wish.”
“Now you’re being autocratic. Being selfish, foisting strangers upon me. You have no idea who this woman is, and what she will demand of us?”
“I do have an idea of who she is, and I think if you give her a chance, you will like her.”
The woman pressed her lips together in a stubborn line.
“Have you no compassion, Edith? No Christian charity?”
“Of course I do. Did we not have Andre Bellaire and his daughter staying with us for months? I’ve learned not to be so trusting of strangers, taking them into your home so they can betray you.”
Maggie couldn’t help a sudden sharp intake of breath.
Both of them turned in her direction.
Edith’s eyes narrowed in censure. “Mrs. Baxter, you are in dishabille . That is not appropriate before my brother.”
Maggie didn’t know what dishabille meant, but the woman’s condemning up-and-down glance at the dressing gown was enough of an answer.
“Edith!” Caleb reprimanded. “Mrs. Baxter is our guest . She has been through a horribly painful experience. My seeing Mrs. Baxter in a dressing gown will do no harm. Especially if you don’t go squawking the news all over town.”
“Do not accuse me of gossip, brother,” Edith snapped, matching Caleb’s tone. “I have no idea of Mrs. Baxter’s circumstances, and I’m giving her a hint about what is and isn’t done.”
“More than a hint—a harangue.”
A wave of fatigue washed over Maggie, and she drooped. Oh, for my dear vardo. I could crawl into bed with Charlotte and close out the world. Suddenly the guest room seemed too far away to hobble to with her lame ankle.
“Hold the baby.” Caleb thrust Charlotte at his sister.
Eyebrows high, Edith took the infant.
Maggie was relieved to see the woman didn’t immediately drop her daughter on the floor, and she supported the baby’s head. Well, Edith should know what to do, for she’s a mother.
Caleb took swift strides to Maggie’s side and scooped her into his arms. “We have the guest room ready for you, and I brought Ben’s cradle down from the attic for Charlotte. Do
Caleb gazed down at the baby. “It is impossible to explain, even to myself. Charlotte is not my daughter by blood, but my feelings for this child are familial, indeed.”
With a bittersweet feeling of sadness, Maggie wished Charlotte had a father who loved her in the way this man did.
Edith fisted her hands on her hips. “What has come over you?” she snapped. “You never held Ben when he was a baby.”
“That was sixteen years ago, Edith. Allow me to have acquired some life experience since then.” He dropped a kiss on Charlotte’s forehead. “I wish I had held Ben when he was a baby. I didn’t know what I was missing.”
“I think that woman—” Edith’s voice trembled “—has bewitched you.”
“Perhaps she has. Or her daughter is magic. Or both.”
Was that amusement in his tone?
“But I’ll tell you this. I saved Charlotte’s life, but somehow. . . .” Here, he paused, his voice dropping low. “Edith, somehow she has changed mine.”
Edith opened her mouth, as if to scoff. She frowned and glanced at the baby.
Thinking what? Maggie wondered. It was true her baby had marked him. She had glimpsed genuine warmth when Caleb held or even looked at Charlotte.
Caleb gave his sister a beseeching look. “Can I call upon you to support Mrs. Baxter during her convalescence?”
“For the convalescence, certainly. But, you can’t allow an unknown lower-class woman and baby to stay here for longer.”
“Would it have made a difference if she were fashionably dressed, Edith? You were quite eager to accept the Bellaires.”
“Yes, and look what came of that.” Edith’s words dripped disdain.
“This is my house.” Caleb obviously strove to keep his tone reasonable. “I will do whatever I wish.”
“Now you’re being autocratic. Being selfish, foisting strangers upon me. You have no idea who this woman is, and what she will demand of us?”
“I do have an idea of who she is, and I think if you give her a chance, you will like her.”
The woman pressed her lips together in a stubborn line.
“Have you no compassion, Edith? No Christian charity?”
“Of course I do. Did we not have Andre Bellaire and his daughter staying with us for months? I’ve learned not to be so trusting of strangers, taking them into your home so they can betray you.”
Maggie couldn’t help a sudden sharp intake of breath.
Both of them turned in her direction.
Edith’s eyes narrowed in censure. “Mrs. Baxter, you are in dishabille . That is not appropriate before my brother.”
Maggie didn’t know what dishabille meant, but the woman’s condemning up-and-down glance at the dressing gown was enough of an answer.
“Edith!” Caleb reprimanded. “Mrs. Baxter is our guest . She has been through a horribly painful experience. My seeing Mrs. Baxter in a dressing gown will do no harm. Especially if you don’t go squawking the news all over town.”
“Do not accuse me of gossip, brother,” Edith snapped, matching Caleb’s tone. “I have no idea of Mrs. Baxter’s circumstances, and I’m giving her a hint about what is and isn’t done.”
“More than a hint—a harangue.”
A wave of fatigue washed over Maggie, and she drooped. Oh, for my dear vardo. I could crawl into bed with Charlotte and close out the world. Suddenly the guest room seemed too far away to hobble to with her lame ankle.
“Hold the baby.” Caleb thrust Charlotte at his sister.
Eyebrows high, Edith took the infant.
Maggie was relieved to see the woman didn’t immediately drop her daughter on the floor, and she supported the baby’s head. Well, Edith should know what to do, for she’s a mother.
Caleb took swift strides to Maggie’s side and scooped her into his arms. “We have the guest room ready for you, and I brought Ben’s cradle down from the attic for Charlotte. Do
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