Page 10 of A Montana Fake Marriage (Sagebrush Ranch Sweethearts #1)

CHAPTER NINE

“Have you noticed anything different with their energy?” Caleb rubbed the back of his neck as he peered up at his aunt’s brother. Chip Bronson had been working with cattle since he was a teenager. He knew everything there was about the herd they cultivated at Sagebrush.

Chip pulled his hat from his head and peered out at the pasture where the majority of the cattle were grazing.

“It’s hard to say, son. You haven’t implemented the feed long enough to gauge if it’s going to help with their overall health.

And energy?” He offered an apologetic smile. “We’re going to need more time.”

That wasn’t what Caleb wanted to hear. He’d been so close to submitting for the patent, but then he’d looked over the qualifications and got the feeling it would be denied. It wasn’t novel enough. He needed to prove that it would revolutionize the feed industry—at least in Montana.

He glanced over to Reese, his cousin. His aunt Sonja had named her oldest son with her maiden name that’s why his cousin had the family last name as his first name.

As a testament to the family calling, his cousin had a knack for horses.

It wasn’t a surprise that Eli and Bo wanted him training to be the horse manager within the year.

“I’m trying to come up for a formula for the horses, too.

Can you compile some of the issues you might notice that the horses have? ”

Reese nodded curtly.

“I want to meet with the veterinarian as well,” he told the men.

“We ran some routine tests in the spring before I started putting the feed together. I want to see if there are any improvements to their digestion. I’ll let you both know when the veterinarian can make it out here to get additional samples.

It’s been four months. That should be enough time to see some changes. ”

He didn’t want to admit how worried he was. Eli had entrusted him with this project, had given him the money to fund it, and if he failed…

Caleb shook his head. He couldn’t fail. He refused to see that money wasted. This wasn’t just some fun experiment. It was his dream. What was he good for if he couldn’t provide what he’d promised?

He glanced over his shoulder to find that Sammie had settled down with Hallie and Katrina.

A small smile tugged at his lips. After the barbeque, things had become strained again.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d overstepped.

The dancing hadn’t been part of the plan.

Neither had the kiss. He hadn’t given her the chance to decline—but instead, he’d dragged her into something that probably made her incredibly uncomfortable.

It didn’t matter that he thought it was for the best.

Caleb sighed and turned back to the group. “That’s all I needed. Thanks for your help.”

Chip and Reese departed, leaving Caleb to mull over his thoughts before returning to the house.

Dinner would be on the table soon, and he’d be seated beside her.

So many times he’d considered apologizing to her about that night.

He’d thought he’d done the right thing in giving his family a version of what they’d wanted.

A kiss to the forehead. He’d done it so many times before—back at college. It was a show of friendly affection. But in front of everyone?

His gut twisted. It was entirely possible that he’d gone too far.

Caleb glanced out at the cattle in the pasture again. If only his life could be as simple as taking care of the animals at Sagebrush. There was a black and white way about things.

Feed the animals. Groom them. Keep them healthy. You get what you give, and all that.

But when it came to Sammie, he’d begun to lose his way. He couldn’t separate what he should be doing and what he wanted to do when it came to her. How was he going to decide if he needed to give her space or if he needed to double down for the sake of his family?

Of course, Caleb knew what he wanted to do.

And it wouldn’t be just for the sake of those who observed them.

The flicker of desire that seemed to have taken root in his soul hadn’t wavered since it materialized.

It was tearing him apart from the inside out every time he was close enough to smell or touch her.

Sagebrush was huge. He was normally consumed by his work, and yet if he caught a glimpse of her, he found himself wondering what she was thinking or if she was having a good day. She could hijack his thoughts without even trying.

Caleb turned from the pasture and headed for the house. His work was done for the day, and he was craving some time with Sammie. Even if all they did was sit on the couch and watch a show, that would be enough.

Sammie was gone now. She’d likely gone home. Hallie and Katrina were on the stairs, still chatting away. Bits and pieces of their conversation floated to him on the breeze.

“I think it’s so cute.”

A muffled response.

“You can tell they’re in love.”

He slowed his steps. Hallie wasn’t talking about him, was she?

“Yeah, it was written all over her face… the way she looks at him…”

Their views were only opinions. They weren’t fact, and yet he clung to them, allowing hope to form and create a protective shell around himself that flickered deep inside. Either Sammie was doing her part to convince everyone she was in love, or it was coming out on its own.

His own affection for her was genuine. There was a strong possibility that hers was, too, right?

Caleb shoved his hands deep in his pockets and avoided looking in their direction.

The worst part was that he couldn’t be sure which option it was.

He didn’t feel secure enough to march up to Sammie and ask her point blank how she felt about him.

That would scare her off—especially if she had zero feelings for him.

Despite how unsure he was, the hope remained. They still had over six months of time together. Maybe there was a chance he could make her fall in love with him.

His whole body tightened at the possibility. Little by little, he could show her how he felt about her and pray she came to her own conclusions about how she might feel about him.

All of Caleb’s well-intentioned plans took a nose dive when, two days later, he woke up with a fever.

He couldn’t shake the chills and shivers that wracked his body.

It probably didn’t help that he was sleeping on a cot.

The air circulated around him—normally keeping him pleasantly cool—but now it made his sweat-dampened body even worse.

His teeth chattered. It was still dark, but he could tell the sun would be rising soon. Caleb pulled his covers tighter over his body and closed his eyes.

“Caleb?” Sammie’s whisper floated through the air. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

Why?

Why did he have to get sick now?

“You don’t sound fine.”

Her form rose on the bed, her silhouette dark against the barest hint of light entering the room. “Are you sick?”

“I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “You should go back to sleep.”

She reached across to the table at the side of the bed and lifted her phone. It glowed briefly before she shut it. “It’s about time to get up.”

He groaned. Already he could tell he wouldn’t be able to stand. Brief waves of nausea and dizziness were striking at any sudden movement. Light burst through the room from the lamp on the side table, and he grimaced.

“You are sick.” Her tone was laced with accusation. Sammie tossed the covers over her body and moved toward him.

Caleb held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t.”

She froze, standing there in a tank top and pajama shorts. Her hair was in a braid over her shoulder, and she looked almost hurt that he didn’t want her close. Then she scowled and took another step. “You can’t tell me what to do,” she muttered.

“Seriously?” He ground out. “If I’m sick, don’t you think you should keep your distance? You’ve got to work, too.”

“I think they’d understand if I’m taking care of you.” She made it to his side, batting away his hand. He dropped it to the bed, and that’s when he felt her feathery-light touch on his forehead. She sucked in sharply. “Caleb, you’re burning up.”

“I’m fine,” he murmured, this time with less grit. “It’s probably just the flu.”

“When’s the last time you got sick?”

“I don’t know,” he croaked. “But I’ll be fine. Just tell them I’m sick, and I’ll sleep it off.”

She hovered, not moving.

“Sammie.” This time, when he spoke, there was more of an air of authority about it. “You don’t have to take care of me.”

“The heck I don’t.” She pulled his blanket from his body and tugged at his arm. “Get up. You need to cool your body down. I’ll help you to the bathtub and get you some painkillers.”

He groaned again, every muscle and bone in his body screaming in protest. Her grip was stronger than he’d expected. With her help, he got to a seated position then to his feet. She draped his arm around her shoulders, and they headed for the door.

He’d been sick before, but it was nothing like this. It felt like he’d been hit by a truck. He couldn’t move or breathe very well. His head pounded at the slightest sound and movement. For most of the walk, he kept his eyes closed.

It wasn’t until he heard the bathwater running that he opened them.

Sammie had settled him on the toilet seat while she drew him a bath.

Dizziness hit him in waves. He leaned back against the basin of the toilet, contemplating how hard it would be to just sleep here. Then there was a tug at his shirt.

He stiffened when he realized she’d helped remove his t-shirt.

Now she was standing there, watching him with worry in her eyes.

She nibbled on her lower lip and looked away.

“I’ll… um… let me get you some water—and some meds.

You get undressed the rest of the way and get in that water.

It’s tepid, so it should help lower your temperature.

” Sammie slipped out of the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Caleb did his best to do exactly what she’d requested. By the time there was a soft knock on the door and her voice just as quietly through it, he’d managed to wash up and get out. He’d dressed again in his pajama pants but didn’t have the strength for his shirt. “It’s unlocked,” he mumbled.

The door opened a crack, and she held a plate of toast and a glass of orange juice. “I put some water in the room, too. Your mom wants to know if you’ll need anything else.” Her eyes swept over him, probably relieved that he was decent. “I’ll put these in the room and come get you.”

She was quick on her return. When they reached their bedroom again, he attempted to walk to the cot, but she stopped him. “Absolutely not,” she snapped. “You’re taking the bed.”

He didn’t have it in him to protest.

Caleb took a couple bites of the toast with his pills then a few sips of the water. The second his head hit the pillow, he was out.

The next thing he felt was a light touch on his face. He leaned into the touch and moaned, “Sammie.”

“I’m here,” she whispered.

He didn’t open his eyes. They were too heavy. There was no telling how much time had passed since she’d put him in bed. Again, he drifted to sleep.

“Caleb?” A hesitant voice broke through his fitful sleep. “Caleb, you need to drink something.”

His eyes opened to the dim room. Throat dry and rough, he turned his head to find Sammie seated in the bed beside him. She was leaning against the headboard. In her hand, she held a glass.

A worried smile hinted at her lips. “You’ve been out most of the day. You really should drink something.”

Caleb nodded. The pounding in his head wasn’t as bad as he expected, but he was still exhausted. Gingerly, he sat up on his elbows and accepted the glass. She reached out and touched his forehead with the back of her fingertips.

“You’re not as warm as you were this morning. How are you feeling?”

Caleb placed the glass on the side table. She leaned over him slightly, brushing at the hair near his temples. That worry etched in her face never wavered.

Caleb snatched her fingers in his hand, then pressed her palm to his cheek. He closed his eyes, reveling in her touch. He could sense the way she stilled beside him, waiting for an answer, probably.

He shifted, leaning against the headboard as well. “Better,” he rasped. “Hungry.”

“Would you like me to get you something to eat? They saved you a plate from dinner, but since you were still sleeping?—”

He flinched. Her voice sounded so loud. “No.”

“But you said?—”

“I’m not sure it would sit well,” he chuckled dryly. “But it’s good I have an appetite back. Something small, maybe. More toast?”

She made an attempt to pull from his grasp. “I’ll go get you?—”

“No,” he repeated. “Not yet.” Caleb could practically taste the confusion that seeped into the air. There was no way he was going to tell her he just wanted to be here—with her—for a few minutes. In this quiet, dim room, all he wanted was to be with her.

From what he had gathered, she’d been by his side all day. She’d tended to him, helped ease his suffering. He might have been unconscious for most of it, but she’d been here. Instead of going to work or hanging out with his cousins, she’d stayed .

She’d never know what it meant to him for her to do that.

Caleb had always fended for himself. He’d always been the one to take care of others.

Even in high school, he’d contributed to the family’s income by getting a job.

His mother had stopped this sort of mothering when he’d hit his teen years.

He didn’t fault her for it—there was just so much more she had to worry about.

Caleb pressed his hand over hers and let out a contented sigh. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?” Her words were barely above a whisper.

“For taking care of me.”

She didn’t respond, but she didn’t have to. He had just wanted her to know that he was aware of her sacrifice, however small it was.