Page 11 of Storm in Montana (Montana Becketts, Wild Spirit Ranch #3)

The trunk’s brass latches glinted in the midmorning light as Annalee knelt before it, her fingers tracing the worn edges where memories existed in folded wool and pressed cotton. Each garment held echoes of another life, whispers of marble steps and gaslit streets far from Montana’s vast horizon.

She lifted the heavy lid, inhaling cedar and lavender.

The scents transported her across miles and years to her eighteenth birthday when her mother’s carefully packed trunk arrived bearing treasures from Naomi’s former life.

Beneath layers of tissue paper, she found what she sought—the sapphire blue wool split riding skirt, its fabric still rich despite the passage of seasons.

Annalee spread the skirt across her bed, smoothing invisible wrinkles.

The beige silk blouse followed, then the fitted vest with its row of pearl buttons.

Her hands trembled as she arranged the ensemble, remembering Brodie’s face when he first saw her wearing it at the family supper celebrating her birthday.

“You look like you stepped out of a painting,” he’d said, his green eyes wide with appreciation. “The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

She’d blushed then, ducking her head while pleasure bloomed in her chest. Now, five years later, the memory brought a different ache, one of missed opportunities and unspoken words.

The leather boots emerged next, their tooled surface telling stories of Philadelphia cobblestones and Montana dust. She dressed with deliberate care, each movement measured and precise.

The hat settled onto her carefully arranged hair, its matching band echoing the blue of her skirt.

Black leather gloves completed the picture.

Annalee studied her reflection in the looking glass, noting how the sapphire wool made her blue eyes appear deeper, more mysterious.

The cut of the vest emphasized her slim waist, while the split skirt draped elegantly around her legs.

She adjusted the hat’s angle, remembering her mother’s lessons about presentation.

It was often hard to reconcile the woman who worked alongside the men at the ranch with the Philadelphia socialite her mother had been at eighteen.

“A lady’s appearance speaks before she opens her mouth,” Naomi had taught her daughters. The advice rang true even here in Montana, where practicality often overshadowed fashion.

The wooden stairs creaked beneath her feet as she descended into the quiet morning. Jolene occupied the rocking chair near the parlor window, little Cody nursing contentedly at her breast. Sunshine spilled across them both, turning her sister-in-law’s dark chestnut hair to burnished copper.

In the corner settee, Lilian lost herself in the pages of a dime novel, one of the treasured collection Annalee had brought back with her from Philadelphia.

Lilian’s black hair fell in a thick braid over one shoulder, her blue eyes moving rapidly across the pages.

The book’s cover depicted a dramatic scene of a hero rescuing a maiden from bandits.

Naomi sat in her usual chair, needle flashing as she mended one of Parker’s shirts.

Her movements were precise, each stitch placed with the same care she’d used to build their ranch from wilderness into home.

The morning light revealed silver threads among the brown of her hair, earned through years of raising eight children and managing a working ranch after her husband passed.

Cool air drifted through the house, carrying scents of coffee and woodsmoke.

The grandfather clock in the corner marked time with steady beats, its brass pendulum catching occasional glints of sun.

Peace settled over the room like a comfortable blanket, broken only by Cody’s soft nursing sounds and the whisper of turning pages.

The front door opened, admitting Joshua and a gust of crisp morning air. Dirt coated his sleeves, evidence of early morning work in the barn. His eyes brightened at the sight of his sisters and mother gathered in the parlor.

“Annie,” he said, using her childhood nickname. “Faith wanted me to give you the date of the Women’s Alliance meeting next week. It will be Tuesday afternoon. She told me you’ll be speaking about the school improvements. I’ll bet that’ll be a rousing meeting.”

“You’re most likely right. I’ve already prepared my notes. Mystic deserves the same level of educational opportunities for its children as those in the schools back East.”

Joshua smiled. “I heard you’re having lunch with Brodie today. I need to collect those bridles Grayson ordered from Jennings Mercantile. I’ll ride with you to town if you’d like company.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Annalee replied, grateful for her brother’s thoughtfulness.

The grandfather clock chimed ten times, its deep tones resonating through the quiet house. Annalee gathered her cowhide drawstring purse in preparation for the ride to town and her anticipated lunch with Brodie.

Fresh snow crunched beneath Cricket’s hooves as Annalee guided her mare through the snow-covered prairie. Beside her, Joshua’s dapple gray Jupiter carved parallel tracks in the pristine white, their breath creating twin clouds in the crystal air.

The morning sun transformed the landscape into a glittering expanse, each snowflake catching light and making Annalee think of scattered diamonds.

Large drifts created waves across the open spaces between clusters of pine and aspen.

In the distance, smoke rose from Mystic’s chimneys in straight columns against the azure sky.

Joshua rode in companionable silence, his presence steady and reassuring. He understood her moods, reading them as easily as Faith wrote her newspaper articles. When they reached the outskirts of town, he reined up beside her. “I’ll be at the mercantile if you need me.”

Annalee nodded, keeping her expression neutral despite the flutter in her stomach. They passed the newspaper office where Faith worked, the Golden Griddle, and finally, the mercantile where Joshua dismounted.

She continued alone to the jail, its weathered wooden facade familiar as her own reflection. Through the window, she glimpsed Brodie at his desk, dark head bent over paperwork. Her heart performed its usual skip, a response she’d never managed to control, even after all these years.

The door hinges squeaked as she entered, announcing her presence. Brodie looked up, his eyes warming as he recognized her.

“Miss Beckett,” he said formally, though his smile held nothing of formality. “It’s a pleasure to see you.”

“Sheriff Gaines.” She matched his tone while removing her gloves. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Finishing up the payroll for my deputies.” He tucked the pen away, standing to his full height. “I thought we’d have lunch at the Golden Griddle.”

“The Griddle is perfect.”

He reached for his coat, shrugging into the well-worn leather. Moving to the door, he held it open for her, then held out his arm, pleased when she slipped her arm through his.

They stepped into the winter sunlight together, their boots creating synchronized prints in the fresh snow. The Golden Griddle’s warm interior welcomed them with aromas of fresh bread and coffee. They chose a table near the window where sunlight painted patterns across the checked cloth.

After ordering, Brodie asked her about what she did while in Philadelphia. She warmed to the topic, explaining a few of the activities.

“My cousins taught me to play lawn tennis and croquet. I’ve ordered the various apparatus for both games from Mr. Jennings. They should arrive in the next few weeks.”

“And what do you plan to do with them?”

“Teach the women and children how to play. And men if they’re willing.”

“I’d let you teach me anytime,” he responded.

Her cheeks flushed before she looked away, drawing in a breath. Facing him again, she smiled. “I’m certain you’d be an ideal student. They also taught me how to ice skate. I loved it.”

“I learned to skate before we moved to Mystic when I was eight,” Brodie offered. “Though I spent more time studying the ice up close than actually gliding on it.”

Their food arrived. Beef stew for him, chicken and dumplings for her, both steaming as the aromas wafted around them.

“Then we’ll have to skate on Thompson’s pond,” Annalee said softly, stirring her chicken stew. “I brought skates back with me.”

“I spotted a pair of skates at Jennings’ yesterday. If you’re interested and the skates are still there, we could try the pond. Tomorrow, after church?”

The invitation hung in the air between them, weighted with possibility. Annalee considered her response, aware of eyes watching from other tables. In Mystic, every interaction between unmarried men and women sparked speculation.

“I’d like that,” she replied finally.

“You’ll have to be patient with me. It’s been years.” He took another bite of beef stew, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

They finished their meal exchanging memories of Mystic winters, each story carefully chosen to avoid the deeper currents running beneath their conversation. When they parted outside the jail, their goodbye held the same measured courtesy as their greeting.

Yet, as Annalee walked toward Cricket and mounted, she felt warmth spreading through her chest despite the winter wind. Sometimes the most important words were the ones left unspoken, hanging in the air like snowflakes waiting to fall.

Sunlight streamed through the church’s stained glass windows, spreading light across the wooden pews where Annalee sat beside Brodie, their shoulders close enough to share warmth through layers of Sunday best. The congregation’s voices rose in familiar hymns, the two of them doing their best to join in.

Annalee felt each slight movement where their arms touched, each shared breath in the cool air of the church.

Brodie’s deep voice joined the singing, the sound vibrating through the space between them.

When the hymn ended, she did her best to focus on the minister’s words, though her mind wandered to the activity ahead.

When the service ended, they emerged into clear winter air.

Their horses waited patiently, stamping occasionally against the cold.

Brodie helped Annalee mount Cricket, his hands steady on her waist. The touch lasted no longer than propriety allowed, yet sparked memories of other moments, other touches over the years.

“The pond should be perfect today,” Brodie said, swinging onto his own horse. He carried a drawstring cloth bag holding the skates he’d purchased at the mercantile.

They rode next to each other through the countryside, joined by Joshua and Faith, who’d decided to purchase their own skates when they heard of Annalee’s and Brodie’s plans.

Behind them, some of the Beckett family followed in various configurations.

Elijah and his wife, Molly, shared a quiet conversation.

Parker raced ahead with Nathan while Lilian rode beside their mother.

The pond spread before them like polished glass, its surface unmarred by human presence. Bare tree branches created abstract patterns against the winter sky, while a family of cardinals added splashes of red to the monochrome landscape.

“It’s beautiful,” Faith breathed, her eyes wide with appreciation. She stood close to Joshua, their hands intertwined.

Brodie unveiled the skates with theatrical flourish. “Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves for either grace or humiliation. There’s rarely middle ground in ice skating.”

Laughter rippled through the group as they prepared to watch from the bank. Annalee’s fingers trembled slightly as she tightened her laces, remembering the proper technique her cousins had taught her.

“Ready?” Brodie offered his arm, steady as a ship’s mast.

She gripped his sleeve, taking her first tentative step onto the ice. Her legs wobbled, muscles remembering patterns from the previous winter. Brodie’s presence anchored her as they began to move, finding rhythm in shared motion.

“You’re quite graceful,” he murmured, leading her in a slow circuit of the pond.

Behind them, chaos erupted as others tested their skills. Parker sprawled dramatically, pulling Nathan down with him. Their laughter echoed across the ice, joined by shrieks as Lilian fought to stay upright.

Joshua managed better, guiding Faith with careful attention. They moved across the ice, slow and steady, lost in their own world of shared smiles and whispered words.

“Watch this,” Brodie announced, attempting a more complex turn. His boots slipped, arms windmilling as he fought for balance. Annalee reached for him instinctively, and they spun together before landing in an undignified heap.

Snow cushioned their fall. Brodie’s laugh rumbled through his chest where Annalee’s hand pressed against his coat. Their eyes met, holding a moment longer than necessary before propriety demanded they separate.

“Not quite the demonstration I planned,” he admitted, helping her up.

The afternoon passed in similar fashion with moments of grace interrupted by spectacular falls, shared laughter warming the winter air. Even Naomi ventured onto the ice briefly, supported by her eldest sons while younger ones cheered her courage.

As the sun began its descent, the group gathered their belongings for the ride home. Sunday supper waited to be warmed at the ranch, promising warmth and comfort after their outdoor adventures.

Brodie drew Annalee aside as others mounted their horses. “Thank you for today,” he said softly. “I’d forgotten how much fun skating could be.”

“Perhaps we could come again next Sunday,” she suggested, heart beating faster at his smile.

“Perhaps we could.” He paused, watching others ride ahead. “Maybe we could practice during the week, too. If your schedule allows.”

The invitation hung between them, delicate, beautiful, and full of possibility. She considered his suggestion. “Do you have time? I know you’re trying to find the cattle thieves.”

He nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “I’ll find time. My deputies will know where I’ll be. Who knows what adventures await us on the ice?”

She chuckled, looking out at the magnificent winter landscape. “You’re always seeking the next adventure, aren’t you?”

He grinned, adjusting his hat against the chill. “And you’re always the one keeping me grounded. That’s why it works.”

Their horses shifted, sensing the energy between them. Annalee reached over, patting her horse’s neck. “All right.”

Brodie gave a slow nod and took her hand.