Page 18 of Montana Groom of Convenience (Montana Cowboys #5)

Carly indicated they should veer to the right and led them toward the river.

She raised her voice, addressing both of them.

“I like to go to the river. It changes every day. It should be flowing briskly now with the spring thaw. It will rise later when the snow in the mountains melts.” She led the way through the cottonwoods, heavy with their white cotton. Jill followed with Sawyer at the rear.

They drew to a halt by the rumbling waters. The air was filled with the scent of fresh green on the trees and the mushroomy smell of old leaves on the ground.

He arrived to see a duck fly away, squawking protests over the intrusion. A ring of rocks and ashes indicated someone had camped there in the past. “You have people staying here often?”

She shifted to study the cold fire pit. “Annie and I used to camp here, but now that she’s married, she doesn’t have time.”

Jill eyed the place. “I could stay here. ”

Sawyer held his peace. An eight-year-old child could not stay out on her own.

Carly studied Jill. “You and I could spend a night here. I’d like that.” She left it at that, not pushing Jill, but as they left the spot, Sawyer noticed that Jill looked back with longing in her face.

They rode onward, climbing rolling hills. Carly pointed out landmarks and gave a history of the area. Sawyer was fascinated with her enthusiasm. “You love the land,” he pointed out after a bit.

She moved to his side. “I’ll do anything to keep it.” She reined away, urging her horse into a gallop. She didn’t slow until she reached the top of the nearby hill, then she dismounted and waited for Sawyer and Jill to catch up.

He swung to the ground and helped Jill down. The girl ran to examine the nearby rocks and pocketed a couple. Seeing her do something he’d also done as a child filled him with fondness for his little sister.

“From here, you can see the northern boundary of your land.” Carly pointed it out. “You can see the river winding to the east.” She sat down on the grassy slope.

Sawyer waited a moment, trying to gauge her feelings. When she showed neither welcome nor dismissal, he sat beside her. He had to make her understand something. “I don’t want to take your land from you.”

She turned to study him. “I’m sorry for being so prickly. It’s just....”

Curious, he willed her to finish. “Just what? Tell me.”

She nodded. “It no longer matters, but I once had a beau. ”

“That doesn’t surprise me. I would think you had them lined up waiting their turn.”

She tipped her head back and laughed. Her eyes sparkled when she sobered enough to speak. “Sawyer Gallagher, who’d have guessed you were capable of sweet talk?”

“Just being honest.” Yet it pleased him to know she’d liked his comment. A smile tugged his mouth upward.

Her eyes widened. “Why, look at you. A real smile. You ought to try one more often. It’s quite—” Her cheeks turned rosy, and she turned away, suddenly interested in the scene before them.

He didn’t press her to finish, content to provide his own words. Quite handsome. Quite attractive. His smile widened. He wished for an excuse to take her hand and squeeze it but could find none. He waited for her to tell him about her beau, but she turned back to the landscape.

“I never get tired of this view.” Her voice had grown soft.

“When I come here, I am reminded of my mother. She often came here with me. She loved nature and said it made her so aware of God. She sang a song. I always sing it when I’m here.

..sort of for her.” She looked away and began to sing in a strong voice.

“‘I sing the mighty power of God, that made the mountains rise, That spread the flowing seas abroad....’”

He sat mesmerized. It was as if they’d entered a holy place. Jill must have felt the same awe, for she sat a few feet away, her attention riveted on Carly’s face.

“‘And everywhere that we can be, Thou, God art present there,’” she finished and sat quietly.

No one moved. Jill wore an expression that could be best described as peaceful. He had not seen that look since the last time he saw her with her parents. She sniffled and turned away. The moment was over, but his heart lifted with the hope that settling in this place would be good for her.

Something rose within Sawyer, a feeling of having found something he lost so long ago he couldn’t remember when or where he’d last known it. A feeling that all was right with his world. Of course! The words of the song. They made a person feel that way.

Carly sighed. “I miss her. Guess I always will.”

Jill again let her feelings show. Her mouth twisted with her own loss. Both parents. He longed to wrap his arms around her and assure her he would make sure she had a good home.

And love?

Perhaps she would get it from Carly and her father. Sawyer had closed his heart to that emotion.

Carly turned to him. “I know you must miss your mother, too. And your brother.” She tipped her head from side to side as she studied him.

He forced himself not to look away, even though he sensed she saw something about him that puzzled her. He resisted a derisive snort. No doubt there was much that had that effect.

“I keep thinking of how you blame yourself for not doing anything to help your mother and brother.”

His insides soured the pleasant feeling torn aside by her reminder.

She squeezed his hand. “Have you thought any more about what I said? That your mother would have been happy that you weren’t trapped as well?”

Her touch seared a path straight to his heart. It was all he could do not to turn his palm to hers and hang on like a drowning man. Her words touched him, too.

“My ma loved me. She loved both her boys. I never doubted it. But why should I live while she and Johnny died? He was only five.” Sixteen years since that dreadful fire, and he’d never spoken of it to anyone.

He’d tried to talk to his pa soon after the fire, but Pa got so agitated that he stopped mentioning it.

Once or twice, he’d approached the topic with people they’d stayed with.

Had been told to forget the past. And he’d determined to do so.

Until now. He wished he’d never mentioned it to Carly. Seems she wasn’t going to let it go until she thought he’d overcome his feelings.

He slowed his breathing, fearing his feelings would erupt like a boiling pot. Out of control. Hurting everything in the way.

But instead, he discovered the sharp, ragged edges of that memory had grown smooth. Perhaps time had done that, and he had been unaware. Or maybe Carly’s understanding and her words and touch had provided healing.

Somehow, his hand had turned, and he gripped her fingers. He forced his muscles to relax. As afraid of the feelings that blossomed inside him as he was of hurting her with his strength.

She withdrew her hand. A tender smile curved her mouth. “Shall we go see where the cows are?”

He nodded, his insides too tangled to allow him to speak.

She helped Jill mount again, and they continued riding north. She seemed to know where the cows were and led them to a wide, green basin where they grazed placidly. Several were spooked at the sight of three humans on horseback, but for the most part, they ignored the intrusion.

Mr. Morrison had informed Sawyer that he would make Sawyer a partner in the business. Sawyer said it wasn’t necessary. His needs were few. A token wage would suffice. But the older man said he thought it was necessary. “You and Carly—equal partners.”

Sawyer wondered if Mr. Morrison had told Carly this news.

Sawyer had no intention of being the one to inform her.

But he studied the stock with a sense of pride.

A mixed herd, mostly Texas longhorns, but according to Mr. Morrison, the man was trying to introduce some heavier English stock.

Sawyer could see signs of his program in the new calves, the evidence of the bull Mr. Morrison had purchased.

“They’ll stay here for a few weeks,” Carly said. “Who’s hungry?” She swung to the ground and pulled a sack from her saddlebags.

Jill didn’t wait for help but climbed down on her own.

Sawyer hesitated. For a man who’d learned not to feel anything, this rough ride of emotions left him anxious, afraid of where it would lead. But at the sight of Carly’s tender biscuits, he pushed all that aside and joined the other two.

They sat on the verge of the hill, side by side. He was close enough to Carly for her arm to brush his as she moved. He could have shifted away but didn’t. He kind of liked having her at his side, being able to feel her every breath and breathe in the scent of hay, baking, and wildflowers.

They had three biscuits each. He passed around his canteen that he’d filled with water before they left. When he thought he’d be riding alone. How had he gone from a loner to sharing the day with a girl and a woman?

“You’re smiling again,” Carly said.

“I didn’t realize.” He failed to make it end.

“Don’t mind if you keep doing it.” More pink in her cheeks, and she lowered her eyes as if embarrassed.

Jill jumped up. “A baby rabbit.” She dashed after it. It darted from side to side, so when she thought she had it, she missed it. She started to giggle.

Carly laughed.

Sawyer’s smile deepened, tickled something inside him, and he chuckled.

Carly looked in his direction. Laughter filled her eyes. Their gazes held, filled with amusement and something more. On his part, an awareness of something sweet and fragile hovering between them.

Is this what marriage did to him? He wasn’t sure if he liked it.

Wasn’t certain he didn’t, either. Suddenly, he couldn’t wait to see what the next few days held for him.

For Jill. For all of them. A shiver crawled across his neck.

The last time he had felt even remotely this content about his life had been before the fire.