Her Montana Man by Cheryl St.john Read Free Book Online Page A

quicksilver ignited in his belly at the combination of that innocent touch and the spark of her
    amber gaze. She noticed something, too.
    She stood, smoothing her skirts, and touched his arm. “Upstairs.”
    She led the way to the foyer and up the broad, carpeted staircase, her black skirts swishing. He
    glimpsed white lace above her heels with each stair she climbed ahead of him. He didn’t allow himself to
    look up, knowing her backside would be at his eye level.
    He followed her along a hallway lined with polished mahogany doors and framed art until she opened
    one and gestured for him to enter ahead of her. The house smelled like candles and lemon wax.
    He carried Tyler into a well-lit room with a heavy oak bedstead and bureau, a chest against one wall,
    and a row of wooden soldiers at attention along the windowsill.
    Eliza Jane tugged at the drapery tassels, letting the material fall over the opening and cloak the room in
    semidarkness. Moving forward with a rustle of skirts, she pulled back the blue-and-white patterned quilt
    and a crisp sheet.
    Jonas lowered Tyler to the bed, easing his head onto the pillow and straightening his legs.
    His aunt removed his boots. Jonas reached to take them from her and set them aside. She pulled the
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    covers up over Tyler and rhythmically threaded her fingers through his hair, as though she was in no hurry
    to leave him. Jonas couldn’t help noticing the pain and adoration on her face when she looked at the boy.
    She was hurting for him as well as for her own loss.
    Bending at the waist, she pressed her nose to his hairline. Her lips touched the skin at his temple. Her
    eyes closed and Jonas caught the glimmer of a tear as it dropped on Tyler’s cheek. She wiped it away
    quickly and stood. Composing herself she touched her skirt with both hands as though pressing out
    wrinkles.
    He recognized the gesture as something she did without thinking when she was uncomfortable. Following
    her out into the hall, he stood waiting as she pulled the door closed.
    “I’d like to do that myself,” she said. “Lie down and obliviously sleep away the next several hours…or
    days.”
    “Go ahead.”
    She looked up at him. The hum of conversation from downstairs seemed to swell and fade. After a
    second, she shook her head. “The house is full of guests.”
    “They would understand.”
    “It’s a small thing to honor my sister and let people pay their respects.”
    He’d been curious about her for months, watching her daily walks to the tea shop, wondering about her
    life. He suffered a twinge of guilt that perhaps part of his reasoning for coming today had been out of
    curiosity. It felt odd standing in the home where she had lived for so many years, seeing her in her
    surroundings, watching her with her nephew. Yet he still didn’t know her any better than before.
    “This is interesting.”
    Eliza Jane jumped and turned to face the man who’d spoken.
    Royce Dunlap had apparently come up a back flight of stairs and was standing several feet away,
    looking as though he’d caught them doing something wrong.
    Eliza Jane’s demeanor changed, her back straightening and chin lifting in a defensive posture. “Mr. Black
    carried Tyler to his bed. Tyler’s had a difficult time and needs to rest.”
    Royce’s gaze slid to Jonas. “Why, how kind of you to assist my son, Jonas. You are a man of many
    talents. One never knows what you’ll be applying yourself to next.”
    For years Jonas had locked horns with Royce in town council meetings. One discussion or another
    always led them to a disagreement. Royce had a bone to pick with him for some reason, and Jonas just
    plain held little respect for the man and his ill treatment of the workers in his employment. But this wasn’t
    the time or the place to air their differences. “I came to show my respects for your wife.”
    “Yes, we’re torn over our loss,”