Painted Montana Sky: A Montana Sky Series Novella by Debra Holland

approached. He’d spread the pictures he’d drawn and painted over the wooden surface. With an awl borrowed from Habakkuk in his hand, and his brow furrowed with concentration, Oliver carefully punched a line of holes down the left side of each paper, adding the pierced pages to a pile on his right.
    Periodically, he scanned the area to make sure no one was around. Miss Lily had driven out to paint, and his pa was working in the barn. Mrs. Pendell was cooking in the kitchen. He’d taken the housekeeper into his confidence, for he needed help in figuring out how to make a book. But she’d crossed her heart not to tell.
    Once he finished making the holes, he stood and began to arrange the pictures. He set them in a line, reshuffling a few and changing them again until he had the order he wanted. Some he’d made with Miss Lily’s help, while others he’d done secretly with the paper and paints she’d loaned him.
    He tapped a finger on the beginning one—the first flower he’d drawn with Miss Lily. Next, came the story of Dove’s rescue from the river. He’d also drawn a picture of the ranch house and a second of the barn. Another featured the cattle in the pasture, most looking like blobs, but the heifer in the corner had turned out to his satisfaction. By the time he’d got to her, he’d had plenty of practice.
    Miss Lily liked the view of the mountains behind the ranch, so he made sure to include a picture of them, using plenty of purple. He’d done a sunset because Miss Lily loved to see the sun setting and watch God paint the sky.
    On several days, Oliver had stayed late after school to draw the schoolhouse and the church. And he’d snuck around the fence of the ladies’ pool to paint the hot spring he knew Miss Lily loved to soak in.
    Second to last was a group portrait of Mrs. Pendell, Habakkuk, Aaron, Hank, Pa, and him.
    The last page was the most important. He’d drawn Pa and Miss Lily holding hands. Oliver stood at Pa’s side. Dove sat at their feet. The dog showed her tongue because she was happy. Miss Lily wore a white dress, and he’d painted a big red heart above them. He’d added printing to this one, asking his teacher, Mrs. Gordon, how to spell married so he’d be sure to get it right.
    Oliver took the pages and neatly stacked them. He picked up a blue ribbon, given to him by Mrs. Pendell, and carefully threaded it through the holes. When he finished, he knotted each end. Once he was done, Oliver flipped through the book one more time, pleased with how his project had turned out.
    He’d completed the book just in time. His pa walked out of the barn, propped a shovel against an outside wall, and headed toward the house.
    Oliver snatched up his book and raced to catch him. By the time he reached his pa, he was winded and had to gasp for breath.
    Pa grinned. “Bear after you, boy?” he teased.
    “I made something for you, Pa.” Oliver held out the book.
    “Well, what have we here?” Pa drawled, eyebrows lifted high. “Don’t rightly recall that it’s my birthday. And it’s certainly not Christmas.” He pretended to look around. “No snow.”
    “It’s for you to give to Miss Lily.”
    “Why don’t you give it to her yourself?’
    “Pa!” Oliver said with a dramatic sigh.
    “What?” Pa’s brows pulled together. He pushed back his hat and gave Oliver a searching look before opening the book, carefully studying each page. When Pa got to the end, he looked at the last picture for such a long time that Oliver wiggled with impatience.
    Finally, Pa looked up at Oliver, his eyes troubled. “What do you mean by this, son?”
    “I want Miss Lily for my ma. But at school when I talked about asking her, Mark Carter told me that you have to do that.” He shrugged. “I just figured I’d help.”
    Pa’s eyebrows drew together. “Miss Lily might say no. She lives in the city. Has a nice life in Chicago as a painter. Living on a ranch might not suit her.”
    “Ah, Pa. She loves it