Page 30 of Montana Groom of Convenience (Montana Cowboys #5)

C arly stared at the night sky. She’d enjoyed seeing the constellations and having them explained to her.

Never again would she view the stars the same way.

..but not because she now knew the names and locations of several groups of stars.

No, what she’d remember would be the eager note in Sawyer’s voice, the way his arm brushed hers as he pointed upward, the longing that threatened to choke her as they lay side by side, touching but with an invisible wall between them.

She tried unsuccessfully to push away the thoughts, to dismiss the yearnings. They had a long two days ahead of them. She must sleep. But her thoughts went round and round, churning up more and more frustration.

Across the embers of the fire, she watched Sawyer’s bulk to see if he was as restless as she, but the blankets didn’t move, and she shifted to her side, her back to him. If only he felt as she did. If only they could mutually decide to change their agreement .

Fatigue overtook her, and she slept, wakening to the smell of wood smoke and coffee.

“Good morning,” Sawyer said as she sat up. “Did you sleep well?”

“Reasonably.” She yawned and then sprang from the covers. “You?”

“Fine, thanks. Coffee’s about ready.” He poured two cups as she rolled up her bedding.

She hunkered down by the fire. “We could make breakfast here or, if we hurry, we could eat at the Bar None.” A hot breakfast served at a table appealed.

He drained his coffee cup. “Let’s do it.” Seems he shared her opinion.

The fire was quenched, the horses saddled, and the pair on the trail in minutes. Their destination lay over the next hill.

Sawyer laughed when he saw how close it was. “They must have seen the smoke from our campfire.”

“I saw someone ride out to check on us last evening.” The cowboy had recognized her and turned back to the ranch. She led the way to the main house.

Mike Day, owner, stepped from the house. “Howdy, I’ve been expecting you. Come right in.” He turned and called over his shoulder. “Ma, put two more places on the table.”

Carly climbed the steps, Sawyer at her heels, and introduced the two men.

“Your husband, you say?” Mike, short and stocky, built like a barrel, studied Sawyer from head to toe.

Carly waited, secretly smiling. Mike might be short, but he exuded power and authority.

To his credit, Sawyer met the man look for look, seemingly unimpressed by the examination .

Mike grinned and gripped Sawyer’s arm. “About time someone took this young lady in hand, and you look like you’re capable of the task.”

“Thank you, sir.” Sawyer grinned and leaned closer to Mike as if to share a secret. “I’m afraid it will take two or more of me to rein her in.”

Mike slapped Sawyer on the back, and the pair laughed together like coconspirators.

Carly jammed her fists to her hips. “I’m not sure I like that.”

Mike chuckled some more. “Come on in for breakfast.”

Sawyer took Carly’s hand, draped it around his elbow, and escorted her through the door, his steps light as if he looked forward to this visit.

In the kitchen, Mike introduced his wife, Ethel. She was as tall and thin as he was short and stocky and she hugged them both, wiping her eyes at the news Carly was married.

“Tell us all about it,” Ethel said in her booming voice.

“Let them eat first.” Mike waved them to the table, and Ethel served up fried pork, fried potatoes, and a heap of eggs.

“Thanks. This sure beats dry biscuits,” Carly said.

Ethel waved away her comment. “I want all the details. How did you two meet? When did you marry? No one mentioned it to us.” She shot Mike a look. “Don’t tell me you knew and didn’t say.”

The man held up his hands in a protective gesture. “No, darling, I didn’t know.”

Ethel smiled her affection before she turned back to Carly .

“We’ve been married...” Carly pretended to count on her fingers and muse about the answer.

“Seventeen days as of midmorning today,” Sawyer said, his eyes steady and challenging.

“Ah, so still on your honeymoon.” Mike reached across the table for his wife’s hand, and they beamed at each other. “That would be why your father sent the pair of you to get the bulls. So you could enjoy some time alone.”

Ethel’s cheeks reddened at the look in Mike’s eyes, and Mike chuckled. For a moment, Carly wondered if they remembered there were two others at the table, and then Ethel pulled her hand to her lap, cleared her throat, and asked, “And how did you meet?”

Carly looked at Sawyer, hoping he would answer.

He gave a grin that made her heart jerk, then turned his attention to their hosts. “I saw her in the restaurant. I could immediately tell she was a determined young woman and a beautiful one as well.”

Carly’s cheeks burned like she stood too close to an open flame.

“I overheard her tell her friend she needed someone to help on the ranch.”

Carly coughed at the way he made it sound so reasonable.

He continued. “I have an orphaned little sister, and I saw that we could all benefit from throwing in together.” He shrugged, but when he turned toward Carly, she saw a depth of emotion, an openness that she’d not seen before. And something more. She couldn’t believe it was an invitation.

Invitation to what?

All she could think was he wanted her to remember their reasons for marrying. It wasn’t as if she could ever forget. Their agreement dogged her every thought.

Ethel sighed. “It sounds so romantic. I so enjoy a good love story.” She sighed again.

Mike chuckled. “She reads those dime-store romances every chance she gets.” His adoring look said he didn’t mind. He leaned closer to Sawyer. “I think it makes her more affectionate, so I buy them for her.”

Ethel again blossomed pink, and Mike grinned.

Carly envied them their marital happiness. Seventeen days ago, she’d thought she didn’t care for any of that—the affection, the touches, the mutual concern—but now she longed for it. Longed for the impossible.

“Father sends his greetings.” Her comment turned the conversation to other things until she knew they must leave. “Thanks for breakfast. I’ve enjoyed the visit, but we need to be on our way.”

Sawyer stood. “It’s been nice to meet you.”

Ethel grabbed his hand. “Please come again. I’ve enjoyed this so much.” She sighed. “So romantic.”

Carly resisted an impulse to roll her eyes. Romantic it had not been. Practical and perhaps, in hindsight, a little foolish. She meant their agreement, not their marriage.

Mike accompanied them out to the barn. “These are the bulls your father bought.”

Carly studied the three animals. “They’re magnificent.”

Sawyer pressed to her side. “They’ll throw more of those fleshy calves showing up in the herd.”

“I’m right proud of the critters,” Mike said. “They’re gentle and will drive easy. ”

“Gentle? How will they compete in the herd? I sure would hate to see them all busted up.”

“Don’t you worry, darling. They outweigh the longhorns and will soon establish themselves.”

“That’s reassuring.”

Carly and Sawyer mounted up, and Mike opened the gate. The massive animals plodded along as directed.

“Mike was right about them being cooperative,” she commented as they hit the trail.

“I like Mike and Ethel,” Sawyer said. “Their love for each other is so open and honest.”

Carly didn’t respond immediately. Dare she be honest and admit she’d changed her mind about their marriage agreement? That she wanted...?

She didn’t know what she wanted. Nor did she have the courage to express her thoughts. “Should I have told Ethel that it wasn’t romantic?” Let him say something if he had any of the same feelings as Carly did.

“Why ruin it for her?”

Disappointment sank into her bones. “That’s what I thought.” She reined aside as if to herd the bulls more closely. Not that they needed it.

She kept her distance from Sawyer throughout the morning. If he noticed, he gave no indication.

The bulls had begun to lag when she pointed toward the nearby creek, and they turned aside to let them rest awhile.

She and Sawyer dismounted. Ethel had given them a sack full of sandwiches and cookies, and they sat beside the cheerful stream to eat their lunch .

Sawyer didn’t immediately begin to eat but studied her. “Have I done something to make you angry?”

“What makes you think I’m angry?”

His eyebrows headed for his hairline. “I don’t know. Maybe the way you stayed off to the side all morning.”

“Not all morning.” Just most of it.

“And the scowl that darkened your face.”

“I was squinting against the sun.”

“Did I?”

“I didn’t look, but I suppose you squinted, too.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

She did know but intended to pretend otherwise and might have if his gaze hadn’t been so demanding.

“I’m not angry. At least not at you.” Any anger she felt was directed at her.

Why was she always wanting impossible things?

Always? This one time hardly constituted always and yet the word had a ring of truth to them.

“I see. Tell me, what did you do to deserve a morning of anger?” His words were soft, inviting. Almost making her forget she couldn’t tell him.

“Nothing that would make sense to anyone but me.”

He leaned closer. “Try me.”

“Why can’t you let this go?” If he continued, she would blurt out the truth and ruin everything. If she suggested changing their agreement, would he see it as a reason to abandon his end of it? It wasn’t a chance she was prepared to take.

“Because I miss your company. I might as well be here by myself for all I’ve seen of you this morning.”

“I was never out of sight.”

“You know that isn’t what I mean. ”

She looked to her left. Looked into the distance. Looked at the sandwich in her hand.

His gaze stuck to her like a burr.

She gave a long sigh. “Let’s eat.” But when she would have lifted her sandwich to her mouth, his hand stopped her. His touch threatened every bit of control she had over her thoughts.

“Not until you tell me.”