Free Montana Legend (Harlequin Historical, No. 624) by Jillian Hart Page A

beside her new friend, but she remained wan and thin. No amount of food and care seemed to make a difference. Ella’s health was still frail, the doctor had told her. It was likely to remain that way for a while longer.
    â€œEveryone in town will get a chuckle out of your baking for Mr. Gatlin.” Lark shot out the door, apparently delighted to have the last word.
    Sarah leaned her forehead against the upper cupboard door and tried not to let the words take root, but how could she help it? Especially when Lark was right.
    The laughter of little girls called Sarah to the window. Seeing Ella on the back of Scout, holding tight to Lucy’s waist, steadied her. Made her remember what truly mattered. Her daughter’s life, health and happiness.
    Cousin Lark or Susan Lockwood or Louisa Montgomery could have Gage Gatlin, the man who didn’t believe in love.
    Because she did believe.

Chapter Five
    â€œI sure hope they got something besides frilly dresses.” Lucy skipped beside him on the busy boardwalk, braids bobbing, as happy as a lark in a field. “I don’t wanna show up at school in some ruffly dress and everyone’ll think I don’t know nothin’ important.”
    She’d been talking his ear off all morning. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he’d agreed to take her into town. Instead of causing her to quiet down, it only made her talk more. Gage tried his best to follow her, but listening wasn’t a man’s strong suit and his head was starting to hurt. “We wouldn’t want that, darlin’.”
    â€œThat’s right. ’Cuz I know all about riding and horses and building up a house good and tight. Ain’t that right, Pa?”
    â€œThat’s right, Luce.” He nearly fell to his knees in thanks—and he wasn’t a church-going man, when he saw the frilly sign overhead: Millie’s Dresses & Hats.
    â€œThey got ruffles, Pa.” Lucy froze stock-still in the doorway. “And lace.”
    He tugged on her sunbonnet, which hung down herback, to get her moving. “Maybe a little lace wouldn’t be so bad.”
    â€œCowgirls don’t wear lace, but you know what, Pa?” She darted to a rack of children’s dresses. “This is buckskin. Real buckskin.”
    He was in trouble now. “We’re here for school dresses.”
    â€œMaybe I can be of service.” A sweet-faced woman without a wedding ring on her hand waltzed into sight, her well-tailored dress swirling around her like a soft rosy cloud. “Did I hear you right? You’re looking for school dresses?”
    Gage could see Lucy was charmed at once. She put on her best smile, the one with the dimples, and used her nicest manners. “Yes, ma’am. My pa doesn’t know nothin’ about dresses so maybe you could please help us?”
    â€œUs,” she said. Gage wasn’t lost on that. The lovely woman flashed him a gentle smile, she was really quite attractive.
    â€œYou came to the right place. I’m sure we can find something your girl will like and if not, I can sew up whatever she wants.”
    Lucy’s eyes sparkled, her mouth opened—
    â€œNo buckskin,” he commanded before she could say it.
    â€œCertainly not for school,” the seamstress agreed. “You have such a lovely complexion and those dark eyes. Let’s start with a red calico. Do you like red?”
    â€œI like blue better.”
    â€œI’ll see what I have.” The shopkeeper’s smile was genuine. Before she hurried into the back to fetch the promised dresses, she tossed Gage a demure look that let him know she was interested.
    What was a man to do? He swept off his hat and tried not to panic.
    â€œYou’re ’supposed to talk nice to her, Pa.” Lucy looked thoroughly happy. “You gotta stop scarin’ the nice ones off.”
    â€œI like scaring them all off,” he mumbled, retreating to the far