Montana Sky

Billings. In fact, he seemed to appreciate them. He often said the house had been too simple, too empty, before she’d come to him.
    She’d pored over recipes with Bess and settled on a rib roast, which she was just sliding into the oven when Bess poked her head in the kitchen doorway.
    “Everything under control in here?”
    “Absolutely. I prepared it just as you told me. Andlook.” Proud as a mother with twins, Lily opened the refrigerator to show off her pies. “Didn’t the meringue turn out nice? All those pretty sugar beads.”
    “Most men got a fondness for lemon meringue.” Bess approved them with a nod. “You did just fine there.”
    “Oh, I wish you’d change your mind and come.”
    Bess waved a hand. “You’re a sweet girl, Lily, but when I got a choice between putting my feet up and watching my movies and sitting around with a roomful of young people, I’m putting my feet up. Now, you want a hand, I’ll give you one.”
    “No. I want to do it myself. I know that sounds silly, but—”
    “Doesn’t.” Bess wandered over to the window where Lily had herb pots started from seed. Coming along well, she thought, just like Lily. “A woman’s got a right to lord it over her own kitchen. But you call me if you run into any problem.” She winked. “Nobody has to know you had a little help.”
    Bess turned as the back door opened again. “Wipe your feet,” she ordered Willa. “Don’t you be tracking mud in here on this clean floor.”
    “I’m wiping them.” But under those eagle eyes, Willa gave them a few extra swipes on the mat.
    “Oh, aren’t those lovely!” Lily pounced on the wildflowers Willa was clutching. “That was so sweet of you to think of it, to pick them for me.”
    “Adam did.” Willa passed them over and considered her mission complete. “One of the horses pulled up with a strain, so he’s busy treating it. He didn’t want them to wilt.”
    “Oh, Adam did.” Lily sighed, and her heart melted as she buried her nose in the tiny blooms. “Is the horse all right? Does he need help?”
    “He can handle it. I’ve got to get back.”
    “Couldn’t you come in for a minute, have coffee? There’s fresh.”
    Before Willa could refuse, Bess jabbed an elbow in her ribs. “Sit down and have coffee with your sister. And take off your hat in the house. I’ve got laundry to do.”
    “Bossy old thing,” Willa complained when Bess shut the door behind her. But she already had her hat off. “I guess I’ve got time for a cup, if it’s already hot.”
    “It is. Please, sit down. I just want to put these in water.”
    Willa sat at the round maple table, drummed her fingers on the wood. The dozens of chores still on her list raced through her head. “Smells good in here.”
    “It’s the herbs, and this potpourri I made.”
    “Made it?” Willa drummed a little faster. “You’re a regular little homemaker, aren’t you?”
    Lily kept her eyes on the stems she carefully slid into an old glass bottle. “It’s all I’m good at.”
    “No, it’s not. And I didn’t mean it to sound that way.” Annoyed with herself, Willa squirmed in her chair. “You’ve made Adam so happy he looks like he could float. And it’s so neat and pretty in here.” She scratched the back of her neck and felt like an awkward rube. “I mean, like that big white bowl there with the shiny red and green apples. I’d never think of something like that. Or putting stuff in those bottles you’ve got on the counter. What is that stuff?”
    “Flavored vinegars.” Lily glanced toward the long-necked bottles where sprigs of basil and rosemary and marjoram floated. “You use them for cooking, for salad. I like the way they look.”
    “Shelly does stuff like that too. I could never figure it.”
    “That’s because you have to look at the big picture, the foundation and not the fancywork. I admire you so much.”
    Willa stopped frowning at the bottles and gaped. “Huh?”
    “You’re so smart and strong and capable.” Lily set a pretty blue cup and saucer on the table. “You scared me to death when I first came here.”
    “I did?”
    “Well, everything did. But especially you.” Lily took her own cup, added a hefty measure of cream to make it palatable to her taste. Then she sat, deciding it was time to confess all. “I watched you the day of the funeral. You’d lost your father, and you were hurting, but you were also coping. And later, when Nate read the will, and