Page 24 of Montana Groom of Convenience (Montana Cowboys #5)

Sawyer watched them, a feeling foreign, yet familiar, tugging at him.

How could he feel like he had seen this before?

And then it hit him. A memory so full of emotion it left him breathless and confused.

Made him want to reach out and pull Jill and Carly into his arms and never let them go.

He allowed himself to place his hand on Carly’s shoulder, needing the contact, hoping she wouldn’t think it untoward.

The memory ballooned within him, threatening to choke off his breath.

He dropped his hand and rushed from the house. He didn’t slow until he leaned against the fence beyond the barn and stared toward the horses, though he couldn’t have said which animals were grazing before him.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, his thoughts a whirlwind of hopelessness as he tried to push away the memory. He didn’t move when Carly came to his side, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

For several minutes, she didn’t speak but her presence settled him like nothing else could have.

“Seeing Jill’s injury reminded me of something.” A beat of waiting. If she didn’t want to hear this, she could change the subject or move away. She didn’t, and he continued.

“Johnny fell and cut his arm in almost the same place as Jill. It was my fault. We’d been out playing, and I climbed a tree.” His breath shuddered out and steadied again when Carly took his hand and squeezed.

“Johnny followed, always trying to keep up with his big brother. He slipped and fell against a stub of a branch. Tore his arm badly.” He stopped as the memory of his little brother filled every pore of his body, and then he forced himself to continue.

“I carried my crying little brother home. Told Mama what happened. She cleaned up the cut and tied a bandage around it. When she was done, she sat in the big armchair where she often held us to read stories to us. She lifted Johnny to her lap and pulled me to her side.” His throat thickened, and for a moment, he couldn’t go on.

Carly waited, calm and accepting.

“She said, ‘Sawyer, I’m proud of you for taking care of your little brother. Accidents happen, and no one is to blame for them.’ She took my chin and made me look at her. ‘Promise me you will never forget that.’ Of course, I promised.”

“Of course you did.” He heard the doubt in her voice. “Are you blaming yourself for Jill’s accident?”

“I should have been watching her.” He tried, and failed, to keep the harsh note of self-accusation from his voice.

“It was an accident. No one is to blame. Children get scrapes and bruises unless they are wrapped in cotton wool and never allowed to play.”

“I suppose so.”

“Do you blame yourself that Jill was alone after your parents died?”

“I stayed away longer than I should have.” There, he’d admitted it. Confessed to a sense of blame. How would she answer that ?

“But you didn’t stay away forever.”

“That’s so.” He met her look. Found sweet release in her words.

“I think you should stop blaming yourself for their deaths. Your mama wouldn’t like it.”

He wanted to dismiss the idea. But every time she said he wasn’t to blame, he grew closer to believing it. “I’ll try to stop blaming myself.”

She chuckled. “It’s hard to let go of an old belief, isn’t it? Try putting a new one in its place.”

“What are you suggesting?” He hoped she had a concrete idea.

“A Bible verse. ‘Give thanks unto the Lord: for He is good: for His mercy endureth forever.’”

He breathed in the words, letting them sink into the depths of his being. Yes, God was good. Even when created mankind wasn’t. “That’s a good verse to remember.”

She stepped away, heading for the barn. “I have something to do.”

She’d changed from her dress to trousers, and her wide-brimmed hat hung down her back.

“You’re going riding?” It was as much a statement as a question.

“Kate said they had kittens ready to leave their mama. I’m going to bring one home for Jill. I think she’d like that.”

He followed her and stayed nearby as she saddled Sunny. He couldn’t explain to anyone, least of all himself, why he could barely restrain himself from reaching out and grabbing the bridle and begging her to stay .

She led the horse from the barn. “Make sure Jill is okay.”

They stood inches apart. Don’t go, his heart said. “Be careful,” his mouth said.

She grinned and stretched up on tiptoe, and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Before he could react, she swung into the saddle and called, “Never. I’ll never be careful.” She waved.

He lifted his hand in a farewell salute as she rode away. After she was out of sight, he realized his arm was still raised, and he lowered it just enough to touch the spot she’d kissed. He was grateful no one could see him standing in the middle of the yard, grinning widely at nothing.

After a bit, he pulled himself together and returned to the house, where he had to explain that Carly had gone for a ride. He didn’t want to tell Jill about the kitten. Let it be a surprise.

Jill and Father Morrison had set up a checkers game and played it.

Sawyer wandered from window to window.

“Son, it’s too early for her to be back. You might as well light somewhere before you wear a trench in the floor.”

He hadn’t realized he’d made so many trips. “I’ll do the chores.”

“You do that.” Father Morrison sounded relieved at Sawyer’s announcement, and Jill giggled.

Out in the barn, he fed the animals, which didn’t take nearly long enough.

He checked the harnessing. All in good shape.

He climbed the ladder to check on the hayloft.

And if he pushed open the doors, allowing him a view of the trail that would bring Carly home, it was purely coincidental. Wasn’t it?

He was happy he didn’t have anyone there with him to demand an honest answer.

He sat in the doorway, his feet swinging until he saw her coming. He stayed there until she was almost close enough to see him watching and waiting before he closed the doors and slipped down the ladder.

He was brushing Big Harry when she led her horse into the barn.

“See what I have.” She pulled a fluffy gray-and-white kitten from her shirt and held it close to her face. The kitten meowed and licked her cheek.

Carly laughed. “It’s very affectionate. The friendliest one of the bunch. Do you want to hold her while I take care of Sunny?” She took his agreement for granted and handed him the little bundle of fur.

The kitten was soft and warm and purred. “I haven’t had a cat since...” His voice trailed off.

She nodded. “Since your mama was alive. Right?”

“Couldn’t have pets when we were always moving.”

“Maybe I should have picked one for you, too.”

He chuckled at the teasing note in her voice. “Maybe Jill will let me share her cat.”

She unsaddled Sunny, brushed him, let him drink, and made sure he had feed. “Shall we take the kitten to Jill?”

He held the little cat toward her, but she had already stepped through the door and let him follow her.

“Yer back,” Father Morrison said as they stepped inside.

“We’re back, and we brought something for Jill. ”

Jill turned around a cautiously eager expression on her face. She searched Carly’s hands and seeing nothing, showed her disappointment.

“Don’t give up so soon,” Carly said with a laugh and stepped aside so Jill could see the kitten in Sawyer’s hands.

Jill came out of the chair, her sore foot completely forgotten, and rushed to Sawyer’s side. “Is it for me?”

Carly plucked the kitten from Sawyer’s hands and handed it to Jill. “She’s all yours.”

Jill grinned so wide that Sawyer thought it must hurt. She pressed the kitten to her cheek. “Thank you. I love her. What’s her name?”

“That’s up to you.”

Jill returned to the chair, the kitten cupped in her hands.

“It will have to be a special name.” She giggled as the kitten squirmed.

“She wants to explore.” The kitten roamed the perimeter of the chair cushion, edging behind Jill, and then it teetered at the front, falling to the floor.

It skittered from corner to corner, jumping at imaginary dangers. Jill laughed at its antics.

“Her name is Skippy because she skips from place to place.”

“Skippy?” Carly pretended to give the name serious consideration. Finally, she nodded. “I like that. What do you think, Sawyer?”

He’d been so caught up in the moment, enjoying his little sister’s happiness, silently thanking Carly for this kind gesture, that he was startled at her question. He quickly recovered. “Skippy is a fine name.”

Skippy sat and gave a plaintive meow.

“She wants me.” Jill hurried to the kitten and retired to the chair. The little ball of fur was soon asleep on her lap. Jill looked at Sawyer. “Thank you.”

Sawyer’s heart swelled against his ribs. It was the first time he’d seen his little sister acting like the child he remembered before her parents died, and his throat clogged with emotion.

“Thank Carly. She rode all the way back to the Marshalls’ to get it for you.”

Jill slowly turned her eyes to Carly. He saw in them a look he knew personally...resistance and caution.

Would she thank Carly? More important, would she accept Carly and the home she offered?