Montana Cowboy Daddy

He would not respond. If he had preconceived ideas it was with good cause. He didn’t take in a satisfactory breath until Isabelle descended the stairs and returned to the kitchen. Surely that would put an end to this ridiculous conversation.

“Like I said, Mattie needs a mother.” Grandfather’s words fell into the silence like an explosion.

Dawson jerked to his feet. “If I marry again, it will be an ordinary ranch woman. I don’t intend to repeat a very bad mistake.”

He didn’t slow his steps until he reached the kitchen.

The women huddled together around the table and laughed about something.

He recognized the gleam in Annie’s eyes. She was up to something. She and Carly often did things their fathers and brothers disapproved of. They’d even been known to visit Wolf Hollow, the rough mining town up the creek, until Pa had put a stop to it.

He shifted his gaze to Carly. Yes, they were up to something. His attention moved onward to Isabelle. The same spark of mischief filled her eyes. He’d seen that look before. In Violet’s eyes as she outlined some adventure meant to relieve the boredom of her role of wife and mother. Despite what Grandfather said, there was something frighteningly like Violet in Isabelle.

“I need to take our guests home.” He heard the sharp tone of his voice but hoped no one else would notice.

Annie rose. “I’ll get the coats.”

Kate headed for the sitting room. “I’ll inform my father.”

Carly stretched. “I best get home, too, before Father starts to worry.” She slid her chair back but made no other move toward leaving.

Annie returned and Dawson waited for them all to don their outerwear, then led the guests out to the buggy and helped them aboard. He told himself it made no difference whether he helped Sadie, Kate or Isabelle. It was only common courtesy. But he had to stifle his reaction when Isabelle’s hand rested in his.

Annoyance at Grandfather’s suggestion he should be interested in this woman intermingled with the bitter memory of the years he’d spent married to Violet. In hindsight he realized he should never have married her. He hadn’t known her long enough. He’d been flattered by her attention and mesmerized by her beauty and self-assurance. He’d been thrilled when she agreed to marry him. Too late he’d realized she saw him as another adventure.

Sadie kept up what little conversation there was during the trip home, talking about her plans to set up a temporary schoolroom. The others settled back, weary from their long day.

Dusk wrapped about the town as he reached Bella Creek. The air grew colder. He let Sadie out at the hotel and escorted her inside, waiting until she reached her door before he returned to the buggy. A few yards farther, he pulled up in front of the doctor’s house. A figure stepped from the shadows.

“Doc?”

“What can I do for you?” Dr. Baker climbed down and went to the man.

“Got a bad hand.”

“Come along.”

Kate didn’t wait for Dawson to help her down but hurried after her father. Soon a lamp glowed inside the examining room.

Isabelle took his hand as she stepped to the ground. She stared at the unlit living quarters and shivered. “It’s dark.”

He fought a brief mental war between his desire to keep his distance from this woman and the dictates of gentlemanly manners. The latter won out. “I’ll go ahead and light a lamp.”

Entering the house, he groped toward the kitchen, where he’d earlier noticed a lamp on the table. He lit it then went to the stove, stirred up the embers and added some wood.

“Thank you. I will handle it in the future.”

He hadn’t heard her step into the room and jerked about to face her. In the glow from the lamp, her features were golden, her smile gentle. She removed her hat and set it on the table. The light touched her hair, filling the dark strands with a fiery glow.

Why was he staring? He shook himself and bolted for the door. Forced himself to stop and face her. Now he could say all the things he hadn’t been able to with Grandfather listening and dreaming an old man’s dream on Dawson’s behalf. “Miss Redfield, I must warn you not to encourage my daughter’s fascination with you.” He rushed on, ignoring the shock in her eyes. “She’s young and vulnerable. I don’t want to see her hurt.”

Isabelle’s eyes snapped. “You’re suggesting I mean to hurt her?”

“Not on purpose but—” How did he say all he felt in a word or two? “She belongs here in the West, on a ranch.”

“And I don’t? And may I ask how you’ve come to that conclusion?”

His gaze lingered on the fur collar of her coat, then went down to the fine leather boots, also with fur lining.

She nodded, her expression icy. “I see.”

“I doubt you do. But you’re city and we’re country.” Before he could say more, he turned on his heel and strode away.

Chapter Three (#ulink_df7be8c4-5ef8-5d17-9036-17608ac2209f)

Isabelle tossed and turned half the night. She was city. Perhaps that was a step up from being an heiress but ultimately it left her struggling with the same sense of frustration and rejection.

In the morning, Kate confronted her. “You seemed restless last night. What’s bothering you?”

She told her friend what Dawson had said. “Even without knowing of my inheritance, he sees me as useless...worse, as a threat to his child’s happiness.”

Kate sat beside her on the bed. “We both know that isn’t true.”

Isabelle turned her palms upward in a sign of helplessness. “I am useless.”

Kate hugged her. “I think you can do anything you set your mind to and you know it.”

Slowly, Isabelle let the truth of Kate’s words settle into her thoughts. She didn’t have quite as much faith in her abilities as did Kate but neither was she prepared to let Dawson’s opinion deter her.

“I want to help you. I thought I could take care of the house while you assist your father.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Her resolve firmly in place, Isabelle went to the kitchen to prove her usefulness. But it was easier said than done. She had no idea how to prepare breakfast. Their pantry had been stocked while they were out at the Marshall Ranch. Only because of those generous gifts did Kate and the doctor have a satisfying meal.

“I need help.” She didn’t mind confessing her inability to Kate.

“Let’s pray about it.” Kate took her hand. They bowed their heads and took turns praying aloud. When Isabelle first learned this practice of spontaneous prayers from Kate, she’d been surprised but soon embraced the idea. Kate called it “letting go of things and letting God take care of them.”

The door to the doctor’s waiting room opened and closed, and Kate and her father left to see to the caller.

Isabelle went to her trunk and removed her Bible. She’d been raised to attend church and say her prayers. Her mother had taught her to trust God, but not until she met Kate four years ago at a church event did Isabelle’s faith begin to grow. Over the years, with Kate’s patient teaching, she’d grown to see that God wanted to be part of every day, every action. Her Bible fell open to a passage she frequently read. Whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus. She closed her eyes as the familiar lonesome ache sucked at her insides. God, I feel so useless. What can I do to Your honor and glory? Show me. Oh, please, show me where I fit.

What did she mean? She was the heiress Isabelle Redfield. According to her lawyer, who was trustee of the funds, she had a lot of money and taking care of it took a lot of work. But somehow her lawyer had done it without her input for years. She saw no reason he couldn’t continue to do so. She wouldn’t have access to the money she’d inherited until she turned twenty-five or married. But being in charge of a vast amount of money meant nothing to her.

She wanted to do something that had meaning for her.

She managed to make a satisfying lunch...again because of the food supplied by others. It didn’t take long to sweep the floors and dust the shelves. As she worked, she tried to think what she would make for the next meal. If only she had a book...