Montana Groom Of Convenience

“Of course.” But she couldn’t think what to do.

Annie gave a little laugh and pushed her toward the cupboard, handed her a knife and put a loaf of bread on the cutting board. “Slice the loaf and butter it while I slice the meat.”

Carly did as she was instructed. All the while, Annie talked and yet her words echoed inside Carly’s head, making as much sense as the clanging of harness bells.

Annie nudged her aside and laid the meat on the prepared bread. “Would you set out six plates?”

She did so, though she miscounted the plates and had to return one to the cupboard.

Somehow the others appeared and they all sat at the table, Jill at Sawyer’s side, Sawyer straight across from Carly. Carly stared at the man. Her husband. In name only. But it still felt unreal. “Hard to believe I left home this morning, worried Father was about to sell the ranch and now I’m going home with a husband to save the ranch.” Her voice sounded hollow to her and she hoped the others wouldn’t notice anything amiss.

“The Lord works in mysterious ways.” Hugh’s ironic tone was impossible to miss.

Carly laughed a little. “He should have made me a boy so Father would have a son. Then this marriage wouldn’t be necessary.” Her words fell into a pool of silence. She jerked herself to attention. She’d never mentioned such a thing before. Not even to Annie. Such thoughts had been buried long enough for her to think they were dead. Why had they suddenly resurrected? “These are good sandwiches, Annie. Thank you.”

“Like I said, if I’d known you were to be married today, I would have at least baked a cake.”

Carly shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” She pushed back from the table. “I’ll help you clean up, then we best get home.”

Annie waved her away. “That’s not necessary. You go on ahead. You’ll have lots to do when you get home.” She hugged Carly. “This should really be your honeymoon.”

Carly almost choked. Surely Annie didn’t think—

She didn’t dare look at Sawyer, afraid he had overheard the comment.

“You’re right. There will be much to do at home.” Not the least of which was introduce her husband to her father. That might prove interesting. To put it mildly.

* * *

Jill clung to Sawyer’s back as they rode south of town toward the Morrison Ranch.

“You’re married to her?” Jill asked.

“Yup. You saw us.”

“So she’s my aunt now?”

He hadn’t thought of it. “No. She’s your sister-in-law.”

“Maybe I don’t like her.” She kept her voice flat as if she didn’t care but he knew better. Knew his little half sister had endured too many sorrows and disappointments and had begun to tell herself she didn’t care about anything. He didn’t want her to believe it as completely as he did. It didn’t happen immediately and he couldn’t say when he’d gotten so good at it that it was now his very nature.

“We’ll have a home.”

“That don’t matter to me.” He couldn’t see her but knew she lifted her shoulders and let them sag.

“I think it will be nice. Your mama and papa would care.”

“Well, I don’t.”

He tried to think how to make Jill care. Make her realize they were going to stay here. But how could he give her reassurances when he had married a woman he’d met only a few hours ago? He clung to his only hope—she needed him as much as he needed her. That was enough to keep them committed to their vows.

They rode on in silence even though he longed to make Jill believe things would be different now but he couldn’t find words. He was too long out of practice at thinking about such vague things.

He glanced about himself. He’d been to Montana before and had liked what he saw. Now he looked at the rolling hills to his left covered with lush spring grass and the trees to his right...some leafed out. Beyond the trees would be the mountains and he promised himself he would go camping in the mountains the first chance he got. Alone.

Now that Jill had a home, he could make such plans.

Carly rode a little ahead of them. She made no attempt at conversation, which suited him fine. Though he might have liked to ask a few questions about the ranch.

She reined in. “Our land starts here. The buildings are there.” She pointed to the left.

A cluster of buildings by some trees—pine and cedar perhaps. Plus deciduous trees. Probably aspen. He’d seen a variety of trees in his travels through Montana.

He made out a small weathered house with a rock chimney, a low barn, also weathered, surrounded by corrals and several other outbuildings.

They turned off the road and started down the trail leading to the homesite. As they drew closer, he could see that everything was neat and well maintained. He drew in a satisfying breath for the first time since they had left town.

As newlyweds.

No doubt Preacher Hugh expected the marriage would be real enough even if rushed. If he’d known the exact details of the agreement between Sawyer and Carly, he might have refused to marry them.

But what did it matter to others if the arrangement suited them?

And it did. If he had any doubts, he wasn’t about to admit it. Not even to himself. Especially not to himself. He had given his word and would fulfill his vows to the best of his ability and within the boundaries they had agreed upon.

They reached the yard and turned toward the barn. She swung off her horse, less hampered by her skirts than most women he’d seen. And he’d seen a few who rode astride. Didn’t have much of an opinion about it except to think riding sidesaddle looked mighty uncomfortable.

He drew to a halt next to her horse but before he could reach back to let Jill down, she slid off, holding to his leg until her feet hit the ground. She put a distance between herself and Sawyer. Perhaps Carly, too, and stood with her arms crossed and a look of pure challenge on her face.

Carly began to lead her horse to the barn, then turned to Sawyer. “There’s room for your horse and feed and—” She broke off as she saw Jill. She gave the girl a moment’s study, then brought her gaze back to Sawyer, silently asking for an explanation.

He shrugged and led his horse after her. Not until they entered the barn and were far enough away that Jill couldn’t hear did he answer. “Too many changes. She’s getting so she resents them.”

“Then it’s up to us to make sure she knows this is permanent.”

“It will take time for her to believe it.”

She pointed him toward a stall and indicated where to get the feed and find a currycomb. She led her horse into the adjoining stall. As she brushed the horse, she murmured to it.

He tipped his head trying to catch her words but he only made out a few.

“Good boy...changes...surprise...”

He grinned. That about summarized it. Changes and good surprises. At least he hoped they would be good. Only time would tell but he meant to do what he could to ensure things went well. He glanced back to where Jill still stood. Her hands were now at her sides and she looked about, taking in their new surroundings.

Carly put away the grooming tools and straightened. The cowboy hat she’d worn while riding home hung down her back. She smoothed her tousled hair back. He decided he liked the straw color of it. She glanced at her skirts, gave them a shake and then looked at Sawyer.

“You ready to meet my father?”

The thing he’d been ignoring could no longer be ignored. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” He removed his own hat and smoothed his hair. “If I’d known I was getting married, I would have gotten a haircut and a new shirt.”

She eyed him long enough that he ached to turn from her. He didn’t. It was far more important to let her see that he was unaffected by her sharp study.

“Too late for that.” Her words were flat as if it didn’t matter one way or the other to her.

He glanced at his boots. Wouldn’t hurt to clean them up a mite but already Carly headed for the door and, seeing how Jill resumed her former stance, he hurried after her, knowing Jill wouldn’t move if he didn’t.

Jill looked from one adult to the other. Her eyes darted away.

Sawyer guessed at her intention and before she could run, he caught her hand. She tried to jerk away but he had a good hold and they followed Carly toward the house.

He studied it carefully as if it might reveal what sort of life was lived within its walls. A low, log structure. The roof sloped down to cover an open veranda. Matching windows stood on either side of the door. An attached woodshed with its own door. They reached the veranda and climbed the steps.

“It’s small,” Carly said. “But I think it will be adequate.”

For all of us, he added for her. “It looks warm and dry. That’s what matters the most.” Jill dragged her feet so that he was forced to haul her along. He would tell her everything would be okay but she had no reason to believe him given he didn’t have any basis for such an opinion.

Carly straightened her shoulders, making him realize this was equally awkward for her.

She turned the knob and pushed the door open, stepped inside and beckoned them to follow.

Jill skidding at his heels, Sawyer entered a kitchen. He barely had time to register his surroundings before his gaze came to a man sitting at the table, his right leg stretched out, immobile in a splint.

Sawyer’s gaze darted from the leg to the man’s face. Full white whiskers, snapping brown eyes, a full head of white hair. A big man. How did he sire a woman as small as Carly?

“Dinnae stand with the door open. Come in and show your face.”

At the man’s robust voice, Jill stopped tugging at Sawyer’s hand and pressed to his back.

“Ack, now, no need for the lassie to be afeared of me. I dinnae bite.”

Carly snorted. “But you growl a lot. Father, this is Sawyer Gallagher and his sister, Jill.”

“Aye. Yer husband I presume.” He struggled to his feet and held out a ham-sized hand to shake with Sawyer.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Sawyer managed as his hand was swallowed up.

“Well, now that remains to be seen. Aye?”

Aye, indeed, Sawyer thought as Mr. Morrison leaned over to look at Jill.

“There, there, little lassie. You and I will soon enough be friends.” With a groan, the man sank back to his chair and faced Carly. “And you, Carly Morrison—no, wait. It’s now Carly Gallagher—I suppose yer well pleased with yerself that you found a husband so quickly. Could be you’ve jumped from the frying pan into the fire.” He laughed heartily.

“Sorry about your accident,” Sawyer said, taking in the strain about the man’s eyes despite his laughter. “What happened?”

“Ack. What can I say? A foolish old man trying to be a hero.”

Sawyer looked at Carly for explanation. “He tried to stop a runaway wagon and slipped on a patch of ice. The wagon ran over his leg.”

“Aye and it would not have happened if some fool had not blasted his gun beside the horses.” He eased himself to a more comfortable position, then leaned forward. “Now let’s have a look at the wee lassie.”

Sawyer peeled Jill off the back of his legs and pulled her forward. “Say hello to Mr. Morrison.”

She didn’t respond. Her jaw jutted out and he knew she wouldn’t.

He couldn’t force her to. Instead of trying, he glanced about the house. A big kitchen with the table in the middle of the room, the stove and cupboards to one side. A wide doorway opened to the living room. From where he stood, he saw a couple of comfortable looking armchairs, one with a table beside it and a scattering of newspapers and books. A footstool to one side of the chair. He wondered if that’s where Mr. Morrison spent some of his day.

Across the kitchen was a closed door. To one end of the kitchen, another closed door. No doubt the bedrooms. He eased slightly to his left and saw another door off the kitchen. The house was small, as Carly said, but more than adequate. He’d shared crowded quarters with a dozen men and slept in the open under the stars. This would do fine for a home for himself and Jill.

No doubt he would soon learn where he and Jill were to sleep and which rooms were used by Carly and her father.

Mr. Morrison took the initiative with Jill. “Hello, little Jill. So yer going to be living with us now.” Mr. Morrison eyed the child without saying another word. The silence grew heavy and uncomfortable.

Jill lifted her head and looked at the older man.

Mr. Morrison smiled. “That’s better.” He nodded. “You have beautiful eyes. You should let people see them more often. ’Tis my guess you have a beautiful smile, too. I can’t wait to see it.”

Sawyer could have warned the man it might be a long time before he did.

Mr. Morrison sat back and Jill shuffled to Sawyer’s side. She didn’t touch him. She wouldn’t. Sawyer understood. But perhaps living here and being settled would help her remember a time when it was okay to feel something besides caution.

“Well, if you’re satisfied,” Carly said. “I need to get some beds ready for these people.”

Mr. Morrison chuckled. A pleasing sound that spread a little honey to Sawyer’s insides. “You mean your husband and his little sister?”

“Uh-huh. I’m going to clean out the little storeroom.”

“Aye. It will be a nice bedroom for the wee lassie.”

“Or for the big brother.”

Mr. Morrison sat upright so suddenly he groaned with pain. He quickly recovered. “Are you telling me your husband is going to sleep there? What kind of nonsense is this?” His voice rose.

Carly dipped water from the bucket on the cupboard and had a long drink. “You said I needed a husband to keep the ranch. I got one. The ranch is safe. But I have no need of a man for any other reason.” She refilled the dipper and offered it to Sawyer.

He drank, more to distance himself from this situation than because of thirst. “Thanks.” He returned the dipper to her and she again refilled it and offered it to Jill, who likewise drank rather desperately. She might try to distance herself from people but she couldn’t help but feel the tension in the room.

“Are ye telling me this marriage is a mockery?”

Carly seemed unaffected by the man’s loud voice. “Nope. Just a contract between two adults.”

Mr. Morrison’s eyes came to Sawyer. Hard, challenging.

Sawyer met the gaze without flinching.

“Yer agreeable to this?”

Sawyer nodded. He was getting tired of explaining it. “We need a family. She needed a man.”

“That so? Seems to me a married man would be wanting to share his wife’s bed.” “Father! Enough. We agreed the marriage was for mutual benefit and that wasn’t one of them. We know what we’re doing.”

Her father sat back. “Aye. So you say.” He grinned and stroked his beard, as content as a cat full of warm milk. “This will be interesting.” He rolled the r.

Carly stared at her father, turned to look at Sawyer and he saw something that made his nerves twitch. A look of surprise, a flicker of fear and then she shrugged.

“I expect it will.”

A little tremor twisted Sawyer’s neck muscles. Had he bitten off more than he could chew?

Chapter Five

Carly refused to let Father’s amusement trouble her. She knew what she was doing. She wasn’t being naive. There would be adjustments to make, things she might be surprised to learn. But she’d faced tough challenges before and always overcome them. She felt duty-bound to point out the fact to her father.

“Remember the time I brought home that wild horse?” She turned to Sawyer. “The gelding wasn’t really a wild horse, just a horse that had been mishandled and turned bad and then the owners turned him loose rather than bother with him or feed him. But he was a beauty. He’s a golden palomino. His coat glistens like sunshine. Or at least it did once he regained his health.” She shifted her gaze back to Father, reminding him of how that had turned out. “I made up my mind to gentle him and turn him into the best horse one could ask for. And now he is.”

She’d named him Sunny and rode him everywhere. Did Father see that marrying Sawyer was much the same? Not that she thought she had to tame the man but she had worked out the problem of dealing with Sunny. She would do the same with Sawyer.

Father continued to stroke his beard, his gaze shifting from Carly to Sawyer to Jill and then back to Carly. “Aye? Is that what ye have in mind for Sawyer? Taming him to be a pet?”

Jill snorted behind her hand, a sound of amusement and derision combined.

“Of course that’s not what I mean.” She didn’t dare look at Sawyer to gauge his reaction. “Father, you’re impossible.” She ground around so her back was to the men, which had her facing the door of the storeroom and a reminder of the need to get Sawyer and Jill settled. “I have to get beds ready.” She hurried to the small room, more than half tempted to pull the door shut behind her and slip the hook in place to secure the door. Except the hook was on the other side of the door. So she settled for squaring her shoulders and looking about the room.

Sawyer’s boots thudded on the floor as he followed her.

She pushed back her annoyance. Of course, she wouldn’t have the same degree of privacy and the ability to be alone as she’d had prior to their arrangement. She could live with that. And if she couldn’t, Sunny and a ride in the open were but a few steps away.

Sawyer stopped at the doorway.

Jill ducked past him and looked about the room. Her eyes lit as she saw the trunk in the corner. “What’s in there?”

“My mother’s things.” And baby things Mother had saved, always hoping for a baby boy who survived. But Carly was the only baby to live past a few weeks and grow to adulthood. She was aware of four baby boys who did not live that long. Their little graves were on the hillside and her mother lay next to them.

“Where’s your ma?”

“She died when I was fourteen.”

“Oh.” Jill pushed her way through the boxes and other items until she reached the trunk. She examined the latches and tried to release them.

“Jill,” Sawyer spoke with a hefty degree of warning. “You don’t have permission to touch that.”

“Can’t I look?” Jill asked.

Carly had crossed the room and pressed on the latches to stop the curious child. “I prefer you didn’t.”

“Fine.” Jill stomped away, crushing an old hat of Father’s beneath her feet.

Sawyer grabbed it and punched it back to shape as best he could. “I apologize.”

Carly nodded. She wasn’t about to excuse the child but neither could she blame Sawyer. “Help me move the trunk to my room.” Not only would it clear out room for Sawyer, it would be safer where she could keep an eye on it.

She grabbed the handle on one side, he grabbed the other and they carried the trunk across the kitchen to her bedroom. She put it down outside the door. “Wait here a minute.” Jill would have followed her but Carly closed the door and leaned against it. She’d carelessly tossed a few items of clothing on the chair and floor and bent to pick them up and shove them into the wardrobe. She pushed the bed against the wall to make room for a cot for Jill. A little sister! She grinned. How many times had she hoped for a little brother or sister only to have her hopes dashed when the newborns didn’t live? Seems she was about to have her dreams fulfilled this way. It ought to be fun.

Someone kicked at the door. Sawyer spoke Jill’s name in a warning tone.

Carly faced the door. It might not be as much fun as she’d imagined. Oh, what was she thinking? The child was only eight. Soon enough she’d be chasing butterflies and playing with imaginary friends.

She opened the door. Sawyer had a firm grip on Jill’s shoulder and the little girl wore a mutinous expression. Carly wasn’t sure what to do...or even if she could do anything. Seems the child was Sawyer’s responsibility. Though Carly meant to do everything she could to help Jill feel secure. Everything, she added with a bit of foresight, that Jill would allow her to do.

“Are you ready?” Sawyer asked.

Carly nodded and grabbed her end of the trunk. They carried it into the room and parked it at the end of her bed. She dusted her hands off. “Now let’s get the other room ready.”

They tromped back across the room, Father watching them with a great deal of interest.

Sawyer stopped inside the storeroom. “Where do you plan to put all this stuff?”

Carly raised her voice. “I figure a bonfire out back will take care of most of it.”

“Dinnae burn me treasures,” Father roared, making Carly chuckle.

“I knew he’d do that,” she whispered, then spoke louder so she would be heard in the other room. “Father, it’s just junk.”

He thumped his crutch on the floor.

She rushed to the door. “Sit down. I’ll not burn it.” She released a heavy sigh. “Can we put some of it in your room?”

“Aye, that’s a fine idea.” He sank back, his mouth set in a hard line at the pain of moving.

With Sawyer’s help and Jill’s watchful supervision, several crates were stacked in the corner of Father’s bedroom.

Carly didn’t give Father’s crowded quarters much thought. He insisted on keeping all this stuff so she reasoned he must enjoy having it crowding every corner.

They returned to the storeroom. It still held far too much.

She and Sawyer stood side by side in the little cleared area. “There’s a cot under that pile of—” she lowered her voice to a whisper “—rags. I’ll have to move them, though I itch to get rid of them.”

Sawyer glanced over his shoulder. “Your father likes to keep stuff?” It was as much statement as question.

“Aye,” Carly said, imitating her father. “Lassie, you never know when ye might have a need for this very item.”

Jill covered her mouth in an attempt to stifle her giggle.

Liking the child’s sense of humor, Carly grinned at Sawyer.

His blue-green eyes shifted to more blue than green as he met her gaze. He seemed a bit startled at her grin and blinked. His mouth twitched and for a moment, she thought he would smile. But he looked away without doing so. Like he said, he didn’t allow himself to have feelings.

What a sad way to live. She could understand why he wouldn’t want Jill to end up the same.

“I suppose we need to find that cot,” he said.

She returned to studying the room. “It’ll be more comfortable than sleeping on the floor.” They stood in silent contemplation for two seconds. She couldn’t think of him as her husband but at least if he slept here, she could accept him as a hired man. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to clear out this space. Father planned this to be a hallway to more rooms. But he never needed them, to his great disappointment.”

“No brothers or sisters?”

“None that lived.” She was so used to thinking that way that she didn’t consider how her words would affect Jill.

Jill had been poking through the piles of old newspapers. Her hands grew still. Carly thought she heard the child suck in air. “You got dead brothers and sisters?” Jill asked.

“Four brothers. Maybe I’ll show you their graves someday.”

“Sawyer gots a dead brother, too.” She tipped her head. “Does that mean I have a dead brother?”

Carly waited for Sawyer to answer. But his face had turned to granite and he stared at the wall.

“I suppose it does,” she answered in his stead.

“Huh. His name was Johnny.” Jill spoke with a degree of authority as if she thought Sawyer might have forgotten.

Carly wasn’t sure how to respond, so said words that might mean anything. “I see.”

Sawyer had still not moved.

“Let’s take some of these things out to the woodshed.” She gathered up a bundle of old clothes and stepped past Sawyer, making her way to the small building at the side of the house. She didn’t bother looking to see what he did. The man had agreed to marry her. That was all she expected of him. But she was mildly pleased when he followed, his arms holding the rest of the clothing.