Painted Montana Sky: A Montana Sky Series Novella Read Free

took a deep breath of the grass-scented air. Just sitting here, surrounded by the beauty of nature, filled her heart and soul. If only I didn’t have to go home to Chicago. After Montana, how can I be content with just painting in parks and gardens?
    Lily dipped her brush in the paint and delicately applied the tip to the paper. She continued adding color, shading, fleshing out the beauty of the flower. She narrowed her eyes, trying to decide if she should dab on a dot of black.
    A yelp and a splash jerked her attention away from the painting. Dove! Her heart shot into her throat, and she spun around on the campstool, searching for her companion. She ripped off her hat to see better. Where is she?
    Lily jumped to her feet, saw Dove being carried downstream by the swiftly moving water, and screamed. The current swept the dog out of sight behind some bushes that screened the river.
    “Dove! Dove!” Lily screamed, her voice sharp with fear. She hitched her skirt and hurried downstream, angry at the limp that slowed her to a shamble when she needed to race. This is all my fault. I should have paid attention, not let her run free by the river.  
    On the other side of the bush, Lily plunged into the water, wetting her skirt to her knees. She made a grab for the dog paddling toward her, but missed.
    The current carried Dove beyond her reach. Lily lunged to follow. Her soaked skirt weighed her down, tangling in her legs. She tripped and plunged to her neck in the icy water. The chill took her breath away, forcing her to gasp for air.
    Gathering up her skirts, Lily fought the flow of water back to the bank, and crawled out. Struggling to her feet, she ran along the river to catch up with the dog.
    Her corset cut off her breath. Despair forced her on. Her foot caught on a tuft of grass and she stumbled and almost went down. Lily barely felt the wrench of pain in her hip as she forced herself to keep going. “Dove!” she cried.
    A clump of western alder blocked her view of the river. Would she never get around them? Dear Lord, please! Please save her!
    Her breath wheezed. And as hard as she tried, Lily couldn’t move her crippled leg faster.
    I’m not going to reach her. She’s going to drown!

 
    CHAPTER THREE
     
    A day couldn’t get any better. Tyler welcomed the warmth of the sun on his shoulders, the scent of new growth in the air. Although he usually took the beauty of his ranch for granted, on a fine spring day after a long winter, he couldn’t help but appreciate God’s handiwork. The distant mountains, still snowcapped, a velvet-green spread of new grass, a blue, blue sky, and a rushing river, swollen with snowmelt and full of trout… Yes, I’m blessed, indeed.
    He eyed his horse and Oliver’s pony grazing under some cottonwoods, and then checked on his son who’d tossed a net into the water, making sure the boy kept his feet planted on dry land. At age six, Oliver enjoyed playing with a net better than using a fishing pole. Not that they could use poles today, anyway. In snowmelt water, deep and swift, the fish couldn’t see the bait.
    Behind him, a campfire burned, sending puffs of smoke into the air, ready to cook their meal and warm them up if they became wet. And judging how he’d grabbed Oliver a time or two before he unbalanced into the river, getting wet was inevitable. Already three trout swam in the tiny pool Tyler had dammed up on the side of the river, enough for a meal.
    A woman’s scream split the air.
    What in tarnation? Tyler jerked his net out of the river, dropped it on land, and grabbed for the rifle he’d propped against a convenient rock nearby his feet. “Stay here,” he ordered Oliver.
    Another scream, this time with words that sounded like a name.
    Carrying the rifle, he started toward the sounds.
    “Pa, look!” Oliver yelled.
    Tyler whirled and glanced at his son.
    The boy pointed at the river.
    Far upstream, a dog struggled in the water. The current swept it against a rock, and