Free Debra Holland - [Montana Sky 02] by Starry Montana Sky Page B

estancia had softened her skin. The last few hours, while she’d worked, she’d ignored the sting of the lye soap, but now the irritation increased.
    She straightened and pressed her fists into the small of her back. Finally, she’d cleaned the kitchen to her satisfaction. Tiredly, she surveyed her new home. Everything was as neat as soap and water and two pairs of women’s hands could make it. How much more gratifying to work on her own house rather than relax in the luxurious prison of her father-in-law’s estancia.
    Across the room, Maria’s shy gaze met hers, and the two women exchanged silent acknowledgment. “It’s fit to live in again,” she told Maria in Spanish. “We can begin in the parlor after we eat.”
    Samantha assessed the space. It looked bigger now that Wyatt and Manuel had moved Ezra’s bed and chair to one of the bedrooms upstairs. Coffee in a pot of Wedgwood blue enamelware simmered on the newly blackened stove, inviting them to sit and have a cup. Sunlight sparkled through clean windows, lighting up the whole room. A white linen tablecloth covered the scarred pine table, now set with the Blue Willow dishes.
    Early that morning, Christine had gathered an armful of red tulips for Samantha. The bouquet filled her mother’s cut-glass vase in the center of the table, brightening the kitchen with color. Samantha had kept the vase packed away during her years on the estancia
.
Now, at last, it had a place to shine.
    She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat, remembering her mother arranging flowers in that vase. A familiar sadnessmisted her eyes, and she wished her mother were here with her. She’d have loved Montana.
    Samantha lifted her chin, inhaling the soap and ammonia-smelling air. She comforted herself with the thought that perhaps her mother still watched over her and Daniel. Sometimes, she fancied she could even sense her mother’s presence.
    A flurry of hammering drove her to the window to peek out at Wyatt. This morning he’d offered to fix the bridge. When she’d demurred, insisting that he’d already done enough for them, he’d pointed out that he didn’t want Christine to be riding across an unsafe bridge or hurting herself running across the rotting wood of the porch. Of course, Samantha had to give in to his reasoning.
    Bending on one knee, Wyatt pounded down the new planks. Even from this distance she could see his back and arm muscles move with every stroke of the hammer. Her heartbeat thudded to his rhythmic movement. As if he sensed her scrutiny, he stopped, flashing her a smile before resuming his work.
    Flustered, she turned away from the window. “Pour the coffee, please,” Samantha said to Maria. “The men and boys will be hungry. I’ll call them in, and we can open Mrs. Toffels’s basket of food.”
    She walked out to the front porch, stepping gingerly. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she called out, “Time to eat.”
    Around the corner of the house, the boys beat the dust from the rugs. She heard Daniel’s whoop and yell. “Come on. Let’s go eat.”
    At the bridge, Wyatt nodded at her. “Be right there,” he called.
    Samantha smiled and walked back inside. In a few minutes, she’d have a hungry horde descending on her. But Mrs. Toffels had packed enough food—fried chicken, baked beans, sourdoughbiscuits, tiny new carrots, a jug of lemonade, and two apple pies—to feed an army.
    She held her breath as she heard the clatter on the porch. Only a few more hours and she wouldn’t have to worry about someone falling through that rotting wood and breaking a leg. Wyatt’s help was an unexpected blessing. Somehow she’d have to repay his kindness.
    The three boys appeared in the kitchen. She smiled and released her breath. “Wash up, please.”
    Daniel piped up. “We washed in the horse trough.”
    “Well, you can just do it again. Properly. With soap and clean water. And a towel.”
    Both twins looked rebellious.
    “Mrs. Toffels made apple pies for