Montana Cowboy Daddy

He laughed at the accurate comparison. If Mattie set her mind to an idea, she would not easily give it up. His smile flattened. Reason enough to divert her attraction from the beautiful newcomer.

He curled his arm about his daughter’s waist and drew her to his chest. “You know you will never be strong enough to move me.” He bussed a kiss on her neck.

She giggled. “There’s more than one way to get you to move.”

“Really? Who told you that?”

“Aunt Annie.”

Yup, his sister would feel free to tell Mattie her opinion. His little sister was only nineteen but had been taking care of Mattie for three years now. And the rest of the family even longer. She’d developed some very strong notions about things.

Mattie gave a decisive nod. “And Grandfather. He knows everything.”

She, like everyone else, called the eldest Marshall Grandfather. Dawson’s father was known to her as Grandpa Bud.

“Grandfather might not know everything. After all, he’s just a man.” The words almost stuck to his tongue. No one, least of all Grandfather, would look kindly on such a statement. After all, Bella Creek had been built by the Marshall patriarch to provide a safe and pleasant alternative to the ramshackle collection of buildings in the wild mining town known as Wolf Hollow. Many of the businesses had been created by him. Before that, he’d started the ranch. It was Grandfather who’d insisted the Marshalls were responsible for rebuilding the section of town the fire had destroyed and seeing to the replacement of the doctor and teacher.

“I’d do it myself if I could.” Grandfather had slapped at his legs as if to remind them all he could barely walk, let alone ride or do carpentry work. A wreck with a horse had left him badly crippled. But it wasn’t beneath him to use his regrettable condition to guilt them all into complying with his wishes.

For the most part, Dawson didn’t object to helping rebuild the destroyed buildings. He hadn’t known it would mean so many hours in town dealing with construction, finding materials and personnel. And why it had fallen to him to write out the advertisements for a new doctor and teacher and then sort through the applications, he could not say.

He smiled mockingly. Not that there’d been a lot of applicants. Not too many people cared to locate to the far northwest corner of Montana at the tail end of winter.

Mattie squirmed free of his grasp and grabbed both his hands. “Papa, she’ll disappear if you don’t stop her.”

“No one disappears.” Though he recalled the futility of trying to make a three-year-old believe that when her mother had ridden out of their lives and soon after died. As far as Mattie understood, her mother had disappeared. Thankfully, she was now old enough to understand a little better, though Dawson wondered if he would ever find words to adequately explain Violet’s restless behavior.

“But what if she does?” Her voice dripped with concern. “I could tell she was really afraid.”

Likely already realizing this rural life was more than she’d anticipated.

Ignoring the curious miners listening to every word, he planted his hands on Mattie’s shoulders to still her movements. “Listen to me, Mattie. She’s not the sort of woman you should be getting too friendly with.” The moment Miss Isabelle Redfield had stepped from the coach in her fancy clothes, fine shoes and flimsy scarf, he’d recognized her as a city woman through and through. He knew enough to be cautious around city women. But Mattie didn’t, and she’d eyed Miss Isabelle with far too much interest. “I doubt she’ll be staying here long.”

The excitement in Mattie’s eyes died, replaced with hurt. He wished he could change that but far better to be warned now than burned later.

One of the dusty miners shuffled his feet. “Begging your pardon, Mr. Marshall, but she looked to me to be exactly the sort of gal a man would do well to be friendly with. It’s been a long time since I seen anyone half so classy looking.”

Mattie nodded vigorously. “That’s what I thought, too.”

Dawson chewed his lips. The precise reason he knew she wouldn’t stay. Life here was rough and challenging. Not what well-heeled city ladies cared for. Like the miner said, there weren’t many like that around here.

Mattie’s voice grew dreamy. “She’s a real lady. Her scarf is as smooth as a kitten’s fur.” She rubbed her thumb and fingertip together as if still feeling the fabric. “Just like her voice and smile.” Mattie rubbed her arm. Dawson knew it was where Isabelle had touched her. “She was so kind.”

If only the woman would leave before his innocent little daughter grew any more interested in the fine lady and her silky scarf. “We need to get back to the ranch.” Hand in hand they left the doctor’s house.

“Dawson, over here.” Grandfather beckoned from in front of the hotel.

Dawson and Mattie crossed the street to join the older man.

“I’ll get the wagon and take you home,” Dawson said.

“No need. Annie’s coming.” Indeed, his sister drove the wagon toward them.

“When did you get to town?” he asked when she drew up beside them.

“Thought I’d have a look at the newcomers but I’ve missed them. Grandfather has fixed that by inviting them to the ranch for supper.”

“I haven’t had a chance to extend the invitation. Dawson, you can look after it,” Grandfather said.

“Me? I thought I was done here and could go find my cows.” He’d purchased his own herd last fall. They’d barely been moved to Marshall Five Ranch before snow fell. He’d checked on them periodically, hoping they wouldn’t wander off to more familiar pastures. Several times he’d had to herd them back from the boundaries of the ranch.

“The others can take care of it.” Pa and Dawson’s brothers had gone out to check on the cattle. But they meant to go north to where they expected to find the main bunch and Dawson’s cows always headed south.

Dawson opened his mouth to protest but Grandfather shook a cane at him. “Annie is going to make a meal for Doc and the ladies. You will bring them out.”

Dawson shut his mouth. There was no arguing with his grandfather when he was in one of these moods. Not for the first time, and likely not for the last, Dawson wished he had not been the one selected to greet the newcomers and get them settled. But his grandfather had insisted he was the eldest of the three brothers and so should be on the welcoming committee, and then he’d insisted he would ride along. And now it had come to this...inviting them out for supper. Doc, his daughter and the schoolteacher, he didn’t mind. But the fancy city gal? He wanted to keep Mattie as far from her as possible.

“That Miss Isabelle is a fine-looking woman.” Seemed Grandfather wasn’t about to let Dawson forget his opinion.

It was useless to dispute the matter. Besides, she was more than fine looking. She was beautiful. He’d noted so the first glance he had of her. Black hair tucked beneath a bonnet that matched her sapphire-blue coat, ebony eyes that gave a sweeping glance to those gathered to welcome the newcomers and ivory skin that would likely melt beneath the Montana sun.

“Puts me in mind of my own Annabelle. Even their names are alike.” Grandfather’s eyes grew watery.

Dawson figured it best to ignore the comparison. Probably the only way Isabelle was like his grandmother was the similarity in names. Nothing more.

Grandfather cleared his throat and brought his piercing gaze to Dawson. “A man would be fortunate to win the heart of such a gal.”

Dawson snorted softly, not wishing to offend the old man. “Don’t you think I’ve learned my lesson about city women?” A woman such as that would be forever restless on the ranch.

“Mattie needs a mother.” Both Dawson and Grandfather glanced over their shoulders to where Mattie kicked a hardened clump of dirt, oblivious to the conversation between the two men.

“I’ve no interest in marrying again.”

“It’s high time you got over Violet. Besides, it’s not fair to judge every woman by Violet’s actions.”

Dawson thought it was completely fair. And not just because of Violet. He could name half a dozen other instances where a family or community had been upset by the discontent of a city woman. One especially came to mind. Violet’s friend had come to town, turning upside down the life of one of Dawson’s good friends, Johnny, and then she’d moved on. Leaving his friend flat broke and emotionally shattered. In fact, he could think of no city woman who had adjusted to life on a ranch. But he kept his opinion to himself. No point in wasting words when he knew Grandfather wouldn’t listen.

Grandfather patted Dawson on the arm with his knotted fingers. “Give her a chance. You might be surprised to discover inner beauty to match her outer beauty.”

Dawson shook his head. “You’ve seen her, what? Fifteen minutes? Half an hour? And spoken less than a dozen words to her. How can you make any sort of judgment about her?”

“I might ask you the same thing. Now help me to the wagon. Annie needs to get home and prepare a meal.”

Dawson assisted the man to the seat beside Annie. As much as possible Dawson, his brothers or their father gave Grandfather what help he needed, but Annie managed when she was alone with him.

The pair drove off and Dawson called Mattie to him.

“Why did we stay here?” she asked.