Montana Cowboy Daddy. Linda Ford

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      “Most people call me Grandfather Marshall, seeing as there are so many Marshalls around. Like my grandson here. Dawson, get down and say hello to these folks.”

      The man Isabelle had recently scolded lowered the girl to the ground, swung off his horse and joined the older man. Tall and broad, so upright and strong looking...a marked contrast to his stooped grandfather.

      “This is Dawson Marshall.” The elder Marshall man chuckled softly. “You’ll have to forgive him his manners. Sometimes he forgets he’s not out with a bunch of rough cowboys.”

      Isabelle raised her head to meet the gaze of the man before her. She stilled herself to reveal none of her trepidation. Only a few minutes in town and already she’d managed to step on the toes of what appeared to be the biggest family in Bella Creek. Not that knowing would have stopped her from speaking her mind.

      Grandfather Marshall continued. “Dawson’s a widower in need of a woman to settle him down.”

      “Grandfather, I am not in need of a woman.” The protesting words rumbled from the man’s lips.

      Isabelle managed not to show any sign of her alarm at the way the older man eyed her, then slowly—almost reluctantly—let his gaze slip toward the other two women. She dared not look at them to see their reaction. Would either of them be interested in the prospect?

      From behind Dawson peeked out the little blonde girl, her blue-green eyes wide.

      “Papa, she’s beautiful,” the child whispered, as she stared at Isabelle.

      Amusement tickled Isabelle’s insides but she decided it was wise to disguise it in view of the frown on Mr. Marshall’s face.

      “Welcome to Bella Creek.” Dawson greeted each of them. His expression cooled considerably when he met Isabelle’s gaze. “Thank you for coming in answer to our appeal for help.”

      His latent displeasure didn’t bother her except to refuel her indignation that a child had been in danger.

      The various trunks and crates had been unloaded from the stage and with a “Hey, there” from the driver, the horses pulled away, leaving a clear view to the sight on the other side of the street.

      Isabelle stared. The whole of the block had been burned to the ground. Blackened timbers and a brick chimney stood like mute, angry survivors. One section had been scraped bare except for remnants of spring snow clinging to the corners. And in the midst of it stood a new building, so fresh and out of place amid the rubble on each side that it looked naked. Shock chilled Isabelle’s veins at the sight. She pulled her scarf closer around her neck.

      Dawson Marshall strode over to stand nearby as they both studied the scene. “This winter a fire destroyed the dry-goods store, the lawyer’s office, the barbershop, the doctor’s office and residence, and the school. We’re grateful it didn’t jump the street and burn the church.”

      She’d read the news of the fire. Knew it to be the reason they needed a doctor and a schoolteacher, but to see the stark evidence gave it a whole different meaning. “Was anyone hurt?” She shuddered at the thought.

      Kate and Sadie joined Isabelle at the edge of the veranda, crowding her closer to Dawson and his daughter.

      He answered her question though he addressed the entire group. “Doc burned his hands trying to save his equipment. It will be some time before he can resume his duties, if he ever does. He said it was time to retire. He and his wife moved to California. The teacher wept profusely at the loss of her precious books and left town on the next stage, saying she would never return.”

      “Hence your need for replacements.” Her scarf was tugged. She reached to contain it but stilled her hand when she saw the little girl behind Dawson fingering it.

      She bent and smiled at the child. “What’s your name?”

      “I’m Mattie. I’m six.”

      “Pleased to meet you, Mattie.”

      Mattie’s face lit with a smile.

      Dawson moved away to speak to the doctor, Mattie firmly in hand.

      Isabelle watched him. A big man with a strong face. Raising a child on his own. How did he manage?

      Not that it concerned her.

      Shifting her attention away, she met Grandfather Marshall’s eyes. He grinned at her, his gaze darting to Dawson and back.

      Goodness. Did he think she had an interest in his grandson? If only he knew she had no interest in men at all. No, she’d learned her lesson. They never saw beyond her inheritance. She’d allowed herself to believe Jamieson Grieve cared for her. After all, he had no need of her money. His father owned a successful bank. But then had come talk of how he’d invest Isabelle’s inheritance in establishing more banks. Once started on the topic of Isabelle’s money, it seemed he could talk of nothing else. She’d broken off with him, wanting to be seen as more than the source of a large bank account.

      It had taken one more failure in the shape of Andy Anderson for the lesson to be embedded. A humble store clerk who daily espoused the evils of money as the root of all vices, he’d said a man ought to work for what he had and take pride in doing so. Believing he loved her for herself, she’d agreed to a betrothal. That was when she felt she must tell him about her inheritance.

      Turned out he’d always known—why should she have believed otherwise? The man would have to be blind and deaf not to know. After their betrothal, he had wanted her to contact her lawyer and, as her future husband, have himself named as trustee of her estate. He said he knew how to put the money to good use.

      That was when she’d said goodbye, a sadder but much wiser woman. From now on, she would not trust that a man’s affections were not influenced by her inheritance. Perhaps by hiding the truth about herself, she could learn the real meaning of a person’s interest in her.

      “Doctor.” Dawson’s voice brought her back to the present situation. “You have patients waiting. Three men were injured by falling machinery. Which of these are yours?” He indicated the stack of crates and trunks.

      “I’ll need those and those right away,” the doctor answered, pointing to several crates.

      Dawson waved at the nearby men. “Let’s get these over to the doctor’s office.” He turned to Sadie. “Miss Young, I’m afraid I don’t have time to see you settled right now. Nor do we have your quarters ready. You’ll be staying in the hotel until we do. If you don’t mind going in and introducing yourself...”

      “I’ll manage just fine,” Sadie said and made her way to the hotel entrance.

      “I’ll take you to your new office and your patients.” Dawson nodded to the doctor, scooped Mattie into his arms and strode across the street.

      Isabelle followed Kate and Dr. Baker. She didn’t mean to miss this opportunity to prove she was an ordinary, everyday, useful sort of woman. Would she ever truly know acceptance as such rather than as a rich woman? Yes, she’d been blessed with it and unfettered love when her parents lived. Her mother, especially, lavished it on her. Isabelle didn’t doubt Cousin Augusta’s affection was genuine. But apart from Kate, every СКАЧАТЬ