Page 25 of Montana Groom of Convenience (Montana Cowboys #5)

C arly waited, her heart still and hopeful, to see if Jill would acknowledge the gift she’d brought her.

Jill’s eyes were dark with a look she’d borrowed from Sawyer. Both so guarded. So afraid to believe life could be as good as their past.

“Thank you,” Jill murmured, ducking her head to hide her face.

“You’re welcome.” Carly barely stopped herself from reaching for Sawyer’s hand and giving it a hard squeeze. It was getting harder and harder to remember their agreement. Or why she’d laid out the limitations.

That night, as she lay in the darkness of her bedroom, Jill spoke softly. “Are you awake?”

“I am. Why aren’t you sleeping?” She’d gone to bed an hour or more ago, the kitten curled up beside her. Carly had checked Jill’s injuries at her bedtime, and they were scabbing over.

“Can I take Skippy when we go?”

Carly’s heart thudded. “Where are you going? ”

“I dunno. But Sawyer goes. He always goes. Papa said he was like a rolling stone.”

“But, honey, he isn’t going to leave. We’re married.

” Doubts flashed through her mind. Married in name only.

And even if that wasn’t the case, there was nothing to keep him from leaving if he chose.

But she could offer Jill reassurance. “This is your home now. You don’t ever have to leave.

” She wished she could see Jill’s expression, but that might not provide her any information.

The child was good at hiding her feelings.

Something she’d learned from her big brother.

Or perhaps from the events of the past few months.

“You’re not just saying that?” Jill’s voice was thin, uncertain, yet full of hope.

“Nope. I’ve never had a little sister, and now that I do, I’m not going to let her go.”

“Okay.” A moment later. “I’m glad.”

“Me, too.” She smiled into the dark and listened to Jill’s breathing deepen.

A few days later, Carly glanced out the window at the sound of an approaching conveyance.

“Doc Baker,” she informed the others who lingered at the breakfast table.

He’d said he’d be out this week to check on Father’s leg.

Hope and sorrow laced through Carly. She understood that Father’s leg was not going to get completely better.

But perhaps the doctor’s prediction had been wrong.

She opened the door to let Doc enter. “Would you care for coffee? ”

“Wouldn’t say no.” He eyed the biscuits.

She offered them to him, knowing he must miss his daughter, Kate, now that she’d married Conner Marshall and lived on the ranch.

Doc looked about at the little Morrison family. Or—Carly corrected herself—was it the Gallagher family?

“How are you all doing?” he asked.

“Fine,” they answered in unison, making Jill giggle.

Doc turned to Jill. “What’s this I hear about you getting hurt again?”

Jill lifted her arm to show him the scrape on her elbow. “And my foot.” She reached down to start taking off her shoe and sock.

Doc chuckled. “No need to show me. I’ll take your word for it.” He studied Jill. “That’s two accidents in quick succession. Are you being careless?”

She returned his study with serious expression. “Sometimes I get in too big a hurry.”

Doc nodded. “Then maybe you should slow down.”

Carly and Sawyer exchanged a smile. She understood he thought the same as she—Jill wasn’t likely going to slow down.

His coffee and plate of biscuits finished, Doc rubbed his hands together. “Robert, are you ready to have your leg checked out?”

Father nodded. “So long as you have good news for me.”

“I can’t promise.”

Carly got to her feet. “We’ll wait outside.” The three of them exited.

Jill stopped two feet from the door. “Is he going to hurt Granddad?”

“I think his leg hurts much of the time,” Carly said. “ But he won’t complain. Father never does.” She picked weeds from the flower bed, enjoying the bright orange of the poppies that had blossomed in the last few days.

Sawyer leaned against the corner post of the veranda, his gaze on the closed door. “I hope he’ll be okay.”

“Me too, but—” Carly didn’t finish. Doc had already warned them that Father’s leg would never be the same.

Doc opened the door. “Can you all come back inside?”

They trooped in and sat down. Father’s face was drawn, but the splint was gone.

Doc spoke. “His leg is healed as well as it’s going to. I regret that I wasn’t able to set it better. Because of that, it will always be crooked.”

“Can he walk on it?” Carly asked.

“I’ve told him to start using it as much as he can. The muscles will shrink if he doesn’t. However, that leg will never be as strong as the other. Robert, you can use the cane or the crutch, whichever helps the most.”

Up to this point, Father hadn’t spoken. “I’ll manage fine. Aye, I’ll make the best of it.”

Doc pushed from the table. “Then I’ll be on my way.”

Sawyer and Carly escorted him to the door and waved him off. They exchanged regretful looks.

“Granddad, are you okay?” Jill’s voice jerked their attention to the pair.

Father stood, gingerly putting weight on his leg. His face was almost as white as his beard.

“Father!”

He lifted his hand to stall her. “I know my leg will never be the same, but I’m not about to give up.” With the aid of the cane Doc had provided, Father limped across the room. “I think I’ll sit outside for a bit.

Tears flooded Jill’s eyes. “Why can’t the doctor make him better? What if he dies?”

Sawyer and Carly knelt on either side of the little girl.

Sawyer spoke first. “He’ll get stronger every day.”

“Honey, do you think he’ll let a sore leg defeat him?” Carly waited.

Jill met her eyes. After a moment’s consideration, she shook her head.

Carly smiled. “Of course he won’t. He’s far too stubborn.”

“Can I go see him?”

“I think he’d like that.”

“I’ll let him hold Skippy.” Jill picked up her cat and headed outdoors. They heard her chattering away.

Sawyer and Carly stood. Carly lifted her gaze to his. Saw his concern. “It must be hard for him,” Sawyer said.

“Yes, but it’s the news he expected from the beginning. That’s why he insisted I needed a man.”

Sawyer blinked and pulled that inscrutable mask over his face. “That’s why you married me.”

“You know that.” They both did. “I don’t regret it.”

They stared into each other’s eyes. Neither blinking. She wished she could read his thoughts, know what he was thinking...feeling.

He gave a little nod. “Nor do I.” And with that, he strode from the house.

She went to the window and watched as he went to the barn and brought out Big Harry .

He looked toward the house.

She raised her hand. Couldn’t say if he saw her beyond the glass. But he touched the brim of his hat and went to hitch the horse to the seed drill. He then went to the field to resume planting.

Carly turned away from the window. No regrets. It was a pleasant thought.

Jill came back inside. “Granddad says he’s got things to do.”

Carly returned to the window and saw Father hobbling toward the barn. She knew better than to warn him to take it easy. He’d have to find his own pace and wouldn’t welcome interference from her.

Over the next few days, life settled into a peaceful routine. Sawyer plowed and planted the crop. Carly finished planting the garden and baked up a storm—several varieties of cookies, an oatmeal-raisin cake that Father liked, bread, and cinnamon rolls, enjoying Jill’s company as she worked.

“You know how to make pie?” Jill asked as they finished the breakfast dishes.

“Sure do. Why?”

“You should make some today. Like maybe raisin. That’s Sawyer’s favorite.”

“I suppose we could make pies,” Carly answered cautiously.

Normally, she found making pies, baking even, to be a waste of time.

..normally, she would be out riding the range.

..but Sawyer had shown appreciation of her efforts, causing her to take a great deal of pride in producing something special for every meal.

She blinked and stared out the window. She hadn’t ridden out since last week.

What if the cows had wandered? She’d have to check on them this afternoon.

In the meantime, she and Jill prepared pie dough, rolled out the crusts, and filled the pie tins with raisin filling that Jill had stirred as it cooked.

She roasted enough meat to give them ample leftovers for supper.

A little later, she sent Jill to call Sawyer from the field for dinner.

Carly went to the barn to call Father. He’d taken to sorting through the old harnesses and leather scraps. “Making something new out of the old,” he’d explained. Carly was happy to see him occupied with something that gave him pleasure.

She hurried back to the house to set out the noon meal. Sawyer entered, water glistening in his hair. His sleeves rolled to his elbows to reveal muscular arms. He’d grown deeply tanned in the past few days.

He sniffed. “Smells good in here.”

“Carly baked you a raisin pie,” Jill said, looking pleased with herself.

“You did?” His eyes must have captured the sun and brought it indoors with him.

She had been about to say it wasn’t just for Sawyer, but the words stuck in the back of her mouth.

“Hope you don’t mind sharing,” Father said.

“Not at all.” The men grinned at each other.

Somehow, Carly managed to serve the meal without spilling anything, even though her arms felt wobbly .

She cut the pie and gave each a piece, careful to make Father’s and Sawyer’s the same exact size. Her baking efforts were rewarded with sighs of appreciation from both men.

Sawyer returned to the field after the meal. As soon as she’d cleaned the kitchen, she turned to Father. “I’m going to check on the cows.” She spoke to Jill. “Do you want to come or stay with Skippy?”

The girl barely looked up from playing with the kitten. “I’ll stay here.”