Page 11 of Montana Groom of Convenience (Montana Cowboys #5)

C arly’s breath caught halfway up her throat as she looked at Jill. The child had opened the trunk and pulled out two little nightgowns Carly’s mother had lovingly stitched for one of the babies.

At Carly’s cry, Jill spun around and dropped the little china shepherdess that had belonged to Carly’s mother. The head snapped off and rolled in one direction, and the little lamb broke from the shepherdess’s arms.

Jill’s expression went from surprised to impassive.

Carly didn’t give it a thought as she fell on her knees and reached for the broken pieces.

She was vaguely aware of Sawyer stepping into the room, taking Jill by the arm, and leading her away.

With a distant part of her mind, she heard Sawyer speak, heard her father say something.

She held the broken ornament in her palms and let her tears wash the pieces.

Through the haze of her silent weeping, she saw Sawyer’s legs and boots. She didn’t look up. He squatted beside her. “I’m sorry.”

She rocked her head back and forth. No amount of regret would fix the broken ornament.

“Your father said it had belonged to your mother.”

She sniffed back the tears. “She called it her Twenty-third Psalm reminder. You know, ‘The Lord is my shepherd.’ She said all she had to do was look at the tenderness in this girl’s face—” She turned the broken head over to see the serene smile.

Her throat choked closed. When she spoke again, the words edged past the tightness.

“She said looking at this made her remember how much God loved her despite the pain of losing so many babies and her failing health.” Her heart slowly shattered as she recalled her sweet mother.

“I promised her I would never forget that fact.” She filled her lungs and spoke firmly, confidently.

“She used to quote Romans chapter eight, verses thirty-eight and thirty-nine. Nothing, she said, can separate us from the love of God.”

“Hmm.” The sound revealed nothing.

She shifted slightly to look at him. He watched her with those expressionless eyes. Could he really feel nothing? Her own emotions and Father’s simmered so close to the surface that they continually spilled over. Sometimes, they erupted explosively. “You believe in God’s eternal love, don’t you?”

He held her gaze, revealing nothing of his opinion.

She waited, wanting to know what he felt. Perhaps hoping to find comfort in hearing him confess, as Mother did, that God’s love was unchangeable, never wavering.

“I don’t know much about love. Not man’s nor God’s. I can’t say if I believe in it as you do.” He lifted one shoulder. “Can’t say I don’t believe, either.”

They had both settled to the floor, carefully studying each other. This man was her husband. She knew so little about him, but it seemed she had a lifetime to learn everything...at least, as much as he was willing to let her know. She shivered a little. Perhaps it would be nothing.

He picked up a fragment of china and handed it to her. “Can it be mended?”

She held the pieces in her palms, studied them a moment. “I doubt it.” She met his gaze. Did she detect a lingering question in his eyes? She studied him. “Are you talking about the shepherdess or something more?”

He nodded. “Are you going to change your mind?”

“About what? The shepherdess? It will never be the same.”

“I don’t mean your ornament.” His blue-green eyes darkened to nighttime sky. “Are you going to change your mind about us?”

“Our marriage?”

“I’m sure we can go to the preacher and tell him we’ve changed our minds. He’ll understand.”

“Have we changed our minds?”

“I haven’t,” he said. “My reasons and my decision still stand. But you might think you’ve made a mistake.” He indicated the broken ornament.

She plucked a baby blanket from the trunk and wrapped the pieces carefully.

“I know it’s beyond repair, but I can’t bear to throw it away.

” Her chuckle was as much self-mockery as amusement.

“Guess I’m my father’s daughter...nothing is ever ready to be discarded.

” She put the bundle in the trunk, then plucked the two little nightgowns off the floor.

“Mother put so much love into making these, hoping and praying to have another child to raise.” She rang her fingers along the row of neat stitches at the hem.

“And yet she never lost her belief in God’s goodness.” His softly spoken words settled her heart. Odd that they should do that. She couldn’t explain why they did.

“If anything, her faith grew stronger. She often said adversity forced one’s roots to grow deeper.”

“Sometimes adversity has the power to tear one from their roots.”

She couldn’t say how she knew, but she did—he wanted to know if Jill could be fixed. Perhaps, if he could be fixed. But he would never ask. Never admit it.

She pushed to her feet. He did the same, and they stood three feet apart, each watching the other. “I’m not sure about Jill, but I remember something Mother said. ‘Today is not the end. Tomorrow is full of surprises and possibilities.’”

He held her gaze, searched it, seeking to understand, perhaps looking for hope.

She hadn’t answered his original question.

It wasn’t fair to keep him waiting and wondering, perhaps expecting the worse.

However, she realized with a hint of humor, did he think her saying she didn’t want to continue with their marriage agreement was the worst?

Or did he think the worst would be for her to say she wanted to continue?

“I haven’t changed my mind about our agreement.” She meant to do everything in her power to make it work .

He studied her. Then released a barely audible sigh. And nodded.

She shifted her gaze from his. He might not reveal his feelings, yet his eyes sucked at her very soul. “I’m going to set up the bed for Jill. It’s up to her if she uses it or not.”

“She hasn’t been very cooperative.”

Carly chuckled. “Father would call it a streak of contrariness.”

They both turned toward the door, where they could hear Father’s rumbling voice as he talked to Jill.

“He’ll be telling her about his childhood.

He and Jill have a lot in common. He was orphaned at a young age.

Had no family, so at nine, he was on his own, trying to support himself.

” As she talked, they put the bed together.

“He found a good family to work for when he was fifteen and began to work for Mother’s uncle.

Before that, he encountered some cruel people. ”

“Maybe Jill will realize that things could be worse than they are.”

She placed the final side rail and straightened. “When Mother died, I don’t think I could have believed that things could be worse. Now, in hindsight, I understand they could have been. But it takes time to work through pain.”

They considered each other. Silently sharing something they had in common. For the briefest of moments, she thought she saw a flash of acknowledgment as if he saw her pain and admitted his own.

And then it was gone. Perhaps it had only been her imagination.

“Now for a mattress.” She didn’t invite him to accompany her but half expected he would.

Since they arrived at the ranch, he’d followed her on every task.

Not that there was any need for his help, but with him holding the mattress and her stuffing in sweet hay from the stack in the loft, she admitted how much easier it was than struggling on her own.

Jill still sat at the table with Father when they returned. Carly spoke to Sawyer.

“I don’t need any help to make the bed. Sit and talk with Father.”

“Aye, you do that, laddie. Jilly has been telling me about your travels. Seems you’ve had a few adventures.”

Carly made sure to leave the bedroom door open so she would be in on any stories Sawyer told. She listened shamelessly as he told of being followed by some wolves and encountering a winter storm.

As she smoothed the last cover on the bed, Sawyer said, “We found shelter with an old man in a cabin by a river.” His voice deepened. “A loner with a mean streak.”

Carly shuddered. She’d sooner deal with marauding animals and Mother Nature at her worst than a man with evil intent.

“Aye, I’ve met a few of those nasty sort. What did this one do?”

“He snatched Jill from her bed and said he would kill her if I didn’t give him all my money.”

Carly went to the door, needing to see Jill’s reaction to the story.

She sat at the table, motionless, staring at her hands. Hiding her feelings as well as Sawyer.

But Jill was a little girl and she would have been so frightened.

So powerless. Carly went to Jill’s side.

“How awful. I’m glad you’re okay.” Jill showed no emotion.

Carly looked at Sawyer. He, too, was impassive, revealing nothing.

She wasn’t convinced that meant he felt nothing. “What did you do?”

“I agreed to give it to him, but it was in my saddlebag. So was my gun. I couldn’t be certain he wouldn’t hurt Jill, so I hid my gun at first. When I made as if to give him my money, Jill kicked him and bit him.”

Father and Carly looked at each other and grinned. No doubt he was thinking Carly would have done much the same.

“I pulled out my gun then, and he backed away. We left. Better a snowstorm than a crazy man.”

“You’ve had an awful time. And not just that man.

” She longed to offer some sort of comfort, but both Sawyer and Jill sat stiff and expressionless.

Both believing they felt nothing, and no one could hurt them.

“You’re a very brave little girl.” She squeezed Jill’s shoulder, then moved away, sensing the child didn’t know how to deal with such gestures.

“I wasn’t brave. I was angry.”

“And scared, too, I think. I know I would have been.”

Jill didn’t answer.

“Good thing you had Sawyer to take care of you.”