Free Glorious Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series) by Debra Holland Page B

hastened up the steps. She paused on the landing to catch her breath. Beneath a stained glass window, a cushioned bench with fringe hanging to the floor ran the width of the wall. After a few gasps for air, her ribs straining against her corset, she continued climbing. The thudding of the men’s footsteps followed her.
    The top of the staircase opened up to a large rectangular room lined with rose-patterned wallpaper, which looked big enough to be a parlor. Doors were spaced around on all four sides. The room was empty but for a Persian carpet, and she wondered what they used the space for.
    “To the right,” Mr. Livingston called behind her. “The first door.”
    Delia hurried inside. A spindle four-poster bed had a puffy blue satin covering that was turned down to reveal crisp white sheets. She hurried to the far corner to get out of the way of everyone else. Blue velvet curtains framed a window and a matching wingchair sat next to a large wardrobe. A chessboard was set out on a small table, and a washstand and a bureau took up the rest of the space. Pictures of peaceful landscapes hung around the room. Surely, my father will recover in this safe haven .
    Mr. Livingston walked in and moved to stand beside her. Then came the men carrying Andre into the room, followed by the doctor and Mr. Livingston’s sister.
    The two men carefully hefted her father onto the bed.
    Dr. Cameron bent over and checked Andre’s pulse. He glanced at Mr. Livingston. “Caleb, if you’ll help me get him out of his clothes.”
    Delia clapped a hand to her cheek. “Oh, dear. His nightshirts are packed in his trunk.”
    “Don’t worry, Miss Bellaire.” Mr. Livingston placed his hand in the small of her back, urging her toward the door. “I’ll lend him one of mine.” He shot a look at his sister. “Edith, will you bring one, please?”
    She inclined her head and left.
    Dr. Cameron finished checking her father’s pulse and gently laid his arm on the bed. “I’m asking you all to leave the room while we make Mr. Bellaire more comfortable. As soon as we’ve changed him, Miss Bellaire, you can return.”
    Although reluctant to leave her father’s side, she allowed herself to be chivied out of the room to where their two brawny helpers waited. Once the door closed behind her, Delia took the first deep breath she’d inhaled since Andre ’s attack. Surely in such capable hands, her father would be fine.
    “We’ll be going, then, Miss,” a masculine voice said from behind her.
    Delia turned to the two men who’d so faithfully carried her father and impulsively did something she’d never done in her life—reached out uninvited to touch a white man who was not her father. She placed her fingertips on the nearest one’s arm. “I cannot thank you enough for what you’ve done.” She brushed the other man’s shoulder. “I don’t know how I would have managed without your help.” Her voice broke and she swallowed hard.
    The first man rubbed his head, mussing his brown hair. “Now, now, Miss. I don’t know how things are in those southern parts you hail from, but in Montana, we help when there’s a need. Many here would have done the same, eh, Rube ?”
    “That’s right, Bart. The Reverend picked us because he needed two big strappin’ men.” Rube puffed out his chest and gave her a teasing grin, showing gaps in his teeth. “Besides, t’was a regular treat for us. Got to help a pretty lady and see the inside of Banker Livingston’s house.” He winked. “The likes of us would never have been allowed up here. Quite a sight, this place is.”
    This time, Delia’s smile felt genuine.
    “We’ll just be going then, Miss. Have to get back to work. We’re building the hotel.”
    “Then I mustn’t keep you from such an important job.” Delia walked with them to the head of the staircase. “Good day, gentlemen.” She waved. “And thank you again.”
    Just as they left, Edith bustled over, carrying a nightshirt. She