Singing Montana Sky (The Montana Sky Series Book 7) Read online

  “You’d be no different if the situation was reversed,” Kael retorted with a grin.

  “You got me there.”

  They reined in, for the street had become too crowded to go farther on horseback. They dismounted.

  Kael reached out a hand for Domino’s reins. “I’ll take them and hope the livery has room in the corral.”

  Tyler handed over the reins, his expression serious. “Lily worked a miracle on me, Kael. I hope someday you’ll have a miracle of your own.”

  To have a chance with Sophia Maxwell, I’d need a miracle of Biblical proportions. I doubt God grants those anymore.

  * * *

  The church was already crowded when the Kelleys entered. Normally, on the rare times the family was able to attend church, they sat toward the back. But today, wanting a good view of Sophia’s performance, Kael steered his parents toward the front, where they squeezed next to rancher Nick Sanders, who held his blonde daughter, Carol, on his lap.

  The Kelleys exchanged greetings with Nick, and they all admired and commented on the new stained-glass window—a gift from the bride’s father—in the front of the church, casting colored light into the room. White roses and greenery bedecked the altar, windows, and the ends of the pews, perfuming the air.

  Nick’s daughter clapped her hands together and pointed to the piano situated in the front left side of the room. “Mama.”

  Nick glanced at them and smiled. “My wife is to play for the wedding. She’s been practicing so much, I think she could perform in her sleep.” He patted his daughter’s leg. “Luckily, Carol is used to her mother staying at the piano during church service.”

  Kael suppressed a stab of envy. He knew Nick from when the two had gone to school together, although the rancher was younger. Who would have guessed this cowboy, orphaned as a teenager, would grow up to marry a beautiful, wealthy woman from Boston? From all accounts, the unlikely couple were deliriously happy, and Kael wondered if Nick had ever felt Elizabeth was as far above him socially as he did with Sophia.

  While his parents chatted with Nick, Kael turned to stare down the aisle. Since everyone else was watching people enter, his search for the first glimpse of Sophia wouldn’t attract attention.

  Kael sometimes wondered if his memory had exaggerated the Songbird’s beauty, but when she appeared and floated down the aisle accompanied by Elizabeth Sanders the reality was more than he’d imagined. At the sight of her, clad in a billowing purple gown with sparkling amethyst and diamond jewelry around her neck, his breath caught on a deep inhale that lodged like a blow to his stomach, imparting both pain and indescribable rapture.

  In the sudden silence of the congregation, Kael thought the thumping of his heart must be audible. As he watched Sophia confer at the piano with Mrs. Sanders, he clenched his hand into a fist to resist pressing a palm to his chest to muffle the tale-tell sound.

  Kael barely noticed Sophia’s harpist friend—just a brief impression of a young woman clad in a flowing silvery-blue gown, her pale hair flowing long and loose over her shoulders—along with two other musicians, who followed her up the aisle. Or how Reverend Norton escorted his wife to a seat in the front pew before he walked to stand in front of the congregation.

  Sophia moved to the front left as the strains of the harp, piano, flute, and violin introduced her singing. Her very first notes filled the church with glorious sound.

  O perfect love

  All human thought transcending….

  Kael thought he’d braced himself for her performance, wondering if he’d be as affected today as he was in the past. Instead, from the moment her chest swelled and she opened her mouth on that first, sweet “O,” she felled him.

  Stunned, his vision narrowed until he saw only her, heard only her. Kael didn’t even notice the bride moving up the aisle to join her groom.

  Other wonderful sounds accompanied her—the thrumming harp and the tinkling piano, the vibrating notes of the violin and the clear purity of the flute. The instruments were only a background to Sophia’s soaring voice, which resonated through the church.

  His heart ached from the beauty of her singing, with his longing for her. Yet, at the same time, Kael felt a deep sense of contentment, of gratitude for this moment, for the color to his dreary life, for the blessing of experiencing such richness. This is as close to heaven as one can get on earth.

  When she finished the hymn, the reverent silence lingered until the minister stepped forward to perform the ceremony. As Reverend Norton smiled at his son, Joshua, who stood in front of him, his hand clasping his bride’s, the elder man’s austere features softened with obvious emotion.

  Sophia and the musicians quietly moved to sit on chairs placed alongside the piano at the front left side of the church.

  The rest of the wedding went by in a blur. Kael’s focus remained solely on Sophia. Once she smiled, tilted her head, and whispered something to the harpist, and he wondered what had caught her attention.

  At the close of the service, Sophia filed out behind the bride, bridegroom, the elder Nortons, and their grandson.

  As much as Kael would like to trail after her, the press of people prevented him from moving—not that he would have abandoned his parents.

  Resting during the ceremony had done his father good, for he seemed in better spirits, saying something to his wife in a low teasing voice and grinning in a way that made her blush. She smiled back with a glow in her eyes and took her husband’s arm.

  Kael watched their familiar behavior—a loving marriage he’d seen all his life. What a blessing to be raised by two people who cared deeply about each other and about him—a relationship he usually took for granted, especially since he’d grown up surrounded by loving unions—Tyler’s parents and the Pendells, and later the Walkers and the Barretts. Only Tyler’s tumultuous first marriage had marred the marital harmony of the area. Thankfully, his friend’s relationship with Lily had made everything right again.

  Once out of the church, the Kelleys followed the crowd up the street toward the four-story hotel, made of polished, brownish-pink quartz, a structure that dominated the town. He glimpsed Gundry and Atwell—his girl clinging to his arm—up ahead, but didn’t try to catch up. The Kelleys joined the line waiting to get inside.

  Kael’s parents talked to the people around them, but he remained silent, his thoughts still lingering on the sublime experience at the church. Once they entered the hotel, with the line passing the newlyweds, his father bantered with the bridegroom, teasing Reverend Joshua about how singing to his wife would be a good way to keep his marriage strong.

  Watching them, Kael couldn’t help but smile at the contrast between the two couples. The Nortons were young. He and Joshua were about four years apart in age. The attractive bride and groom wore expensive clothes that were probably worth more than the sum of what Pa had made in his whole life. His father’s shoulders were bent from hard labor. His parents had work-worn faces and hands. But both couples radiated a similar love and kindness, and Kael figured the newlyweds would find the same quality of happiness with each other, regardless of the blows life would inevitably throw their way.

  Once the Kelleys finished talking to the bride and groom and greeted the elder Nortons and the bride’s father, Andre Bellaire, they walked farther into the lobby.

  Kael had only been in the hotel once before, when it was similarly full of people in festive spirits. Today, instead of a huge Christmas tree in the corner by the front window and holiday decorations, the room was bedecked with white roses. He wondered where the flowers had come from. He hadn’t thought the whole state of Montana held so many white roses.

  He searched for Sophia and saw her momentarily standing alone.

  Energy seemed to leech from her, because she suddenly looked tired and pale.

  Her harpist friend was a few feet away, talking to a man, a bright smile on her face. From the way the two stood so close, Kael figured he must be her fiancé, Peter Rockwell, who managed the hote
l.

  Sophia’s gaze drifted over the throng, making brief eye contact with people and then continuing on. He couldn’t tell if she was searching for someone or just curious. Then her gaze came to rest on Kael and didn’t move away.

  She sees me.

  Heat suffused him and his pulse raced. Kael straightened knowing he wasn’t just one of her admiring crowd, but an individual man.

  Suddenly, he knew the meaning of the saying time stood still, for their gazes locked on each other for what seemed a precious eternity. But only seconds could have passed, for no curious observer turned to see who held Sophia’s attention.

  If I died right now, I’d be a contented man. I couldn’t wish for more.

  Animation returned to Sophia’s beautiful violet eyes, and pink colored her cheeks.

  If she’d been any other woman looking at him like that with interest in her eyes, Kael would have suspected she was attracted to him. Well, I can pretend that’s what I see.

  Remembering Sophia’s weariness, he grabbed a wing chair, stealing it before a young redheaded woman who’d been heading for the seat could reach it. He carried the chair toward the Songbird. With as much of a flourish as he could present with a heavy piece of furniture, he deposited it in front of her, as if giving her a present. “So you can rest for a few minutes.”

  She brushed his arm with her fingertips in apparent gratitude.

  He felt the impact of her smile all the way to his toes, and her touch burned through him.

  “I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I’ve had too many long days lately,” she said with a sigh. “I was up late trying to memorize the last part of a difficult German libretto.”

  This close to the beautiful woman, Kael remembered that he smelled like a horse and became self-conscious. “I have no doubt you will succeed.” To his ears, his words sounded stilted.

  She tilted her head and studied him with apparent curiosity. “Now, why would you say that?”

  Did I say something wrong? “You’re obviously an intelligent woman,” he stammered.

  A charming smile lit up her face. “Well, Mr…?”

  “Kelley. Kael Kelley.”

  “Mr. Kelley. Not often does a man compliment my mind. Your perception is rather refreshing.”

  Kael searched for something else to say that would keep the conversation flowing. He had so much he wanted to tell her and to ask that his tongue tied up, not knowing which sentence should come first.

  Then Caleb Livingston approached, the owner of the hotel and the bank, carrying a fancy glass. He handed the drink to Sophia. “Andre stocked only the best champagne for his daughter’s wedding.”

  “Just what I need,” she said in a gay tone.

  The man was everything Kael was not—educated, wealthy, sophisticated, and a perfect match for the Songbird.

  Kael backed away.

  Sophia looked for him, raising her eyebrows when she realized he was no longer next to her. She tilted her head.

  For a brief moment, Kael wondered if he’d given ground too soon.

  Once again, their gazes connected, and energy jolted through him.

  But then Livingston claimed her attention again.

  His mother, who’d been only a few steps behind Kael, caught up and began talking about the beauty of the flower arrangements decorating the hotel lobby.

  Kael let her words wash over him and watched Sophia and Livingston. She seemed engrossed in their conversation, and the heat of jealousy made him turn away.

  No matter how many people he talked to, the pretty girls who flirted with him, the tasty food he ate, or the wine that went down as smoothly as water, Kael’s gaze returned to Sophia. Finally, he gave up trying to forget she existed, and he kept her in his awareness, treasuring every expression and memorizing each graceful gesture.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sweetwater Springs

  Opening Night

  The night of Sophia’s first performance as Brünnhilde in Chicago, Kael left the bunkhouse at the logging camp, searching for privacy and peace. He didn’t want to remain among the men who were playing cards or cribbage, mending clothes or darning socks, sharpening axes, smoking, or reading the tattered novels that had been passed around a dozen times.

  He headed toward the garden, maintained by the cook and his flunkies. The moon was only a sliver, but the path was well-worn and straight. A crisp breeze blew across his face, ruffling his damp hair. He inhaled, glad to be rid of the pungent stink of unwashed bodies, clothing, and bedding.

  I probably don’t smell too good, myself. Earlier, trying to get into the spirit of celebrating on Sophia’s behalf—even if only one-sided, Kael had coaxed a pot of hot water from the cook and took a bar of lye soap to wash his face, hair, and upper body then shave off two weeks’ growth of beard, the best he could do to get clean. His skin felt scoured from the harsh soap, and he suspected his eyes might be red. His clothes still smelled of smoke, sweat, and dirt.

  Kael leaned against the shoulder-high fence surrounding the garden, crossing his arms on the top rail. He stared up at the night sky, the stars glittering across the vast blackness. Inside the theater in Chicago, Sophia wouldn’t see the sky; she would be the star, the stage her firmament.

  On her visit, Sophia had brought Lily a copy of the libretto for Die Walküre, in both the original German and with an English translation. After the Dunns read it, Kael borrowed the libretto for two weeks. On his Sunday off, he’d read aloud the English version to his parents and had taken the libretto back to the camp for further study at night before lights out.

  When Kael returned the copy to the Dunns, he’d asked Lily to describe the theater, so he could have a clearer picture of Sophia’s setting. After their talk, Kael figured he could visualize some of what took place during Die Walküre. Although, with his limited experience of operatic productions, he knew his imagination couldn’t hold a candle to reality.

  Lily had also shared Sophia’s unhappiness and her struggle preparing to play Brünnhilde. She was under tremendous pressure to learn the part and sing the difficult role—one she hadn’t wanted in the first place. Still, Kael had no doubt she’d deliver a spectacular performance.

  The Songbird will blow the hats off their heads. He chuckled, envisioning frilly ladies hats and black bowlers flying toward the carved and gilded theater ceiling and dropping back onto the heads of the hapless people in the audience.

  But then Kael imagined the wealthy men—elegant in their evening attire—watching her perform, and sadness replaced his feeling of whimsy. How I envy them!

  Lily told him about the opening night party that would occur after the show, where special guests and donors mingled with the performers.

  Does Sophia have a special swain? Will he be there? Of course he will.

  His gut tightened, and his fingers curled into the wood of the fence.

  She didn’t have a suitor, according to Lily. But Sophia might not tell her sister about her romantic life.

  His gaze swept the sky, noting familiar constellations. Kael gazed at one bluish-white point of light. I wish I could be there to see her perform!

  An owl hooted.

  He heard the rustle of leaves, as if the bird took flight, and saw a shadow pass overhead.

  How many people over the ages have looked at the night sky—the home of gods and angels—and wished on a star, perhaps even the one I’ve chosen?

  The granting of that wish was so unlikely that Kael figured he might as well send his longing beyond the stars to the very gates of heaven. I wish Sophia Maxwell was mine!

  A question surfaced, asked in a still, small voice. Isn’t love supposed to be selfless?

  He wanted to growl at that voice but knew it spoke the truth. He had only to look at his parents’ marriage. They’d proven their love for each other.

  If I care about her, I must value Sophia’s well-being over mine, even if that means she belongs to someone else.

  Kael drew in a deep breath, one dredged from
the depths of his being. “I wish for Sophia Maxwell’s happiness,” he said aloud on the exhale, sending his wish to the stars, to the angels, to God.

  The steam whistle shrilled, slapping him back into reality. Nine o’clock and time for lights out.

  “Kelley!” Someone shouted, breaking the quiet of the night.

  “Coming!” he yelled back, annoyed at the summons.

  Although Kael needed to get back inside before the lanterns were doused, he lingered, staring upward, trying to cling to his fantasy for another precious moment.

  “Light up the sky, my Star,” Kael said to the night, hoping the magic of the heavens would convey his message to Sophia.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Chicago

  The Day After Opening Night

  After Sophia’s collapse last night, to everyone’s consternation, she didn’t regain consciousness. Full of fear, Emma and her father had slipped out of their balcony seats and hurried back stage. While on stage, the opera continued with Judith Deal assuming the role of Brünnhilde, in the wings, Emma tried frantically to rouse her sister.

  When she failed, Emma had Papa send for Dr. Hamb while several men helped transport Sophia, wrapped in blankets, from the opera house to their carriage. When they reached home, the servants carried her sister up to her bedroom, where the doctor examined her and pronounced a high fever and possibly influenza.

  After a sleepless night at her sister’s bedside, cooling Sophia’s fevered brow with cold cloths, Emma blinked gritty eyes. Her body was stiff from sitting in a chair for hours. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. The doctor was due to arrive soon.

  Mavis Bratton, Sophia and Blythe’s maid entered the room. “I have fresh cloths,” she said with a lowered voice, setting a folded stack on the nightstand. “Do you need more water?”

  Emma leaned over to peer into the bowl. “There’s enough for now,” she whispered and stood, stepping away from the chair. She moved to the window and pulled back the purple velvet drapes, allowing light into the room.