Page 33 of Montana Groom of Convenience (Montana Cowboys #5)

S awyer hurried toward the door and then paused to consider Jill and his father-in-law both standing at the counter. Jill drooled over the candy selection. Mr. Morrison tacked the notice to the bulletin board. Sawyer resisted an urge to snatch it off and toss it into the garbage.

“I’m going to catch up to Carly.” He tossed a penny on the counter for Jill’s candy. “Come on, little sister.”

Mr. Morrison limped after them. “Wait for me. I’m done here.”

Feeling less than charitable to the old man, Sawyer nevertheless waited for him to get up on the seat, then turned the wagon in the direction he’d last seen Carly.

Jill leaned over his shoulder. “Where’d she go? Why’d she go without waiting for us?”

He leaned forward, anxious for a glimpse of Carly, but all he saw were the benches of the town square and the trees, leafed out in fresh green, which surrounded the square. “I guess she was upset about something.” Thankfully, Jill had not read the notice, so she did not know what was planned.

“Oh.” She considered the news. “Did you do something?”

“Me?” He looked over his shoulder at his sister, her face wreathed in worry and accusation. “Why would you think that?”

She got a stubborn look on her face. “’Cause you aren’t nice to her.”

“What? When have I ever been unkind to her?” The announcements of the day got stranger and stranger.

“You treat her like a man.”

Mr. Morrison chuckled.

Sawyer resisted an urge to jump from the wagon and join Carly in marching away.

“I do not.” He certainly never thought of her as a man. Not even for a second. They reached the intersection of the streets. He slowed the wagon to a crawl. “Does anyone see her?”

The three of them craned their necks.

He caught a movement to the south. “There she is.” Seems she was headed home. Perhaps to pack. If her father succeeded in his plan, they would all be packing.

He overtook her. “Want a ride home?”

She shook her head and kept marching. “What home?”

“Girl, get in the wagon. ’Tis home until otherwise.”

She stopped and faced her father. “I’m not sure I care to ride with you.”

The man had the audacity to laugh.

Sawyer decided to try another way of appealing to her. “Get in. When we get back—” He no longer felt free to say home. “We can discuss this.”

She glanced up at Sawyer. “My father is not known for being reasonable.”

He guessed she meant being forced into a marriage agreement to save the ranch, which didn’t seem to satisfy her father.

Carly continued her journey, her feet pounding on the grass at the side of the road. Sawyer slowed the wagon so it kept abreast of Carly. She stopped walking and took a deep breath. “Very well.” And climbed into the back with Jill.

Jill sidled close. “Why’re you mad?”

“Because someone didn’t keep his word.” The words should have left bruises on her father, but again, Mr. Morrison chuckled. He was getting far too much enjoyment out of the turmoil he’d created.

“Was it Sawyer?” Jill asked, still determined to blame her brother for Carly’s anger.

Carly must have heard the confusion and fear in the child’s voice, for she wrapped an arm about her, and her voice softened as she answered. “It wasn’t Sawyer.”

“Good.” It didn’t seem to cross her mind that it might be Carly’s father.

They returned to the ranch in silence. Sawyer stopped at the house to let the others off, though he didn’t care much for leaving Carly to deal with her father alone.

He continued to the barn to take care of the horse and wagon. As he turned to put away the harness, Carly joined him.

“Did you know he was going to do this?” Her words were little bullets looking for a place to explode .

“I’m as surprised as you.” He met her look, saw the anger, but also saw the hurting.

“I thought he would have discussed this with you.”

“No. Why would he? That man does what he wants.”

She nodded. “Is there any point in talking to him about it?” Defeat deadened her voice.

“I think, at the very least, we deserve an explanation.” He pulled her arm through his. At first, she stiffened, and he thought she might pull away and stomp off. “Come on. Let’s confront the tiger.”

She gave a half-amused, half-bitter laugh and allowed him to draw her back to the house and her father.

Back at the house, he asked Jill to take her kitten outside and play. “I’ll let you know when you can come back.”

Cradling the cat in her arms as she went to the door, she said, “I hope you work things out the right way.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant. But he hoped so, too.

Mr. Morrison sat at the table, looking through the mail he’d brought home. He didn’t even bother to glance up, though he most certainly had heard them enter and had to be aware of the tension in the air.

“Sir, can we talk?”

Mr. Morrison shoved aside the mail and planted his fists on the tabletop. Not a good sign in Sawyer’s opinion. “Say what you have to say.”

Carly and Sawyer sat side by side across from the older man. She perched on the front of her chair and looked mad enough to chew the cup her father held, so Sawyer spoke before her anger could erupt .

“We’d like to know why you did this.” He congratulated himself on keeping his tone even while all the time his insides twisted and turned.

“Father, you said if I married, you wouldn’t sell the ranch. I never thought you’d be one not to keep your word.”

“Aye, and what kind of marriage is it when he sleeps in the storeroom? ’Tis not a marriage at all, methinks.”

Sawyer heard her little gasp. “You wouldn’t do this to me if I were a son,” she said.

“But you’re not.”

Knowing how much those words would hurt, Sawyer reached for her hand, but she jerked to her feet, tipping the chair. He grabbed it to steady it.

“I’m tired of trying to be the son you always wanted.” She fled out the door.

Sawyer studied the man across the table from him. “She is better to you than most sons would be.”

“’Tis true, but she needs a man.”

“She has a man. Me.”

“What’s to keep you if you don’t have a real marriage? If you don’t love her? My daughter deserves to be loved.”

“The details of our marriage are not your business.” He pushed away from the table and headed for the door, his fists curled in anger.

“That’s where we disagree,” Mr. Morrison said just before Sawyer pulled the door closed quietly.

He glanced around and saw Carly in the little graveyard, kneeling before her mother’s grave. She deserved some time alone, and he needed to get his feelings reined in, so he headed for the barn, where he saddled Dusty.

Jill stood near the fence as he mounted his horse. She held Skippy so tight to her chest he wondered the cat didn’t try to squirm away. “Can I go in the house now?”

“Go ahead.”

“Are you leaving?” His little sister tried to sound brave, but he caught the tremor in her voice. At the moment, he was powerless to say anything to soothe her fears. What could he say when things were so unsettled?

“Going to make sure the bulls are okay.” They’d turned them out with the herd.

“You’re coming back?”

“I’ll be back.” He paused, understanding her uncertainty, and swallowed back his own fears. “Jill, I will never leave you.”

She nodded.

He rode away in the general direction of the cows. The bulls really didn’t need checking, but he needed time to think.

Was he truly going to have to leave the only place that had felt like home since his ma died? Or was there a way to change the old man’s mind?

Was he willing to take what seemed the obvious...the only way...to keep his home?

Carly knelt before her mother’s headstone, her heart leaking blood with every beat. She brushed a bit of dust from the granite. “I’ve tried to please Father, but he won’t be satisfied.”

The sound of a trotting horse drew her attention back to the yard. Sawyer was riding away. Would he return? She wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t, especially when her father had made him a partner, then snatched it away.

Just as he’d snatched away the promise to keep the ranch if she married.

Her father’s words echoed inside her head. ’Tis not a marriage at all.

Was there a way she could convince Father to change his mind? She sat back, her legs crossed in front of her. She had to think this through.

The sun rose higher in the sky as she sat and considered what to do next.

It was Sawyer sleeping in the little storeroom that convinced Father their marriage wasn’t real. If he slept in her room, would he believe otherwise? Her cheeks burned at the idea of sharing a room with him.

But if it made it possible for her to keep the ranch...

All because she wasn’t a son. She stared at the four little crosses. “If one of you had lived and grown to adulthood, this wouldn’t be happening.”

She didn’t realize how long she’d sat there trying to persuade herself of what she must do if he would agree until she heard him return. She tried to get up but discovered her legs had fallen asleep and, she was still sitting in front of Mother’s grave when Sawyer strode up the hill and joined her.

He sat beside her, his legs folded in half. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

“Me, too.” She wondered what conclusion he’d reached. I could hardly blame him if he decided he’d been hoodwinked and wanted to annul their marriage.

“You go first.”

“No, you.” After all, she thought mockingly, you’re a man, and as such, your opinions matter so much more. She knew her bitterness was uncalled for. He didn’t deserve that judgment. He’d treated her fairly and didn’t even complain about her wearing trousers.

“Very well. You might not like what I’m about to suggest.”

So he was going to say their agreement was over. She marshaled up every bit of mental strength she could find.

“Your father wants you truly married.”

“Yes.”

“He does not know the terms of our marriage, nor does he need to, but perhaps we can ease his concerns by sharing the same room.”

“Not the same bed?” What did Sawyer truly want?

“I agreed I wouldn’t expect that, and I’m a man of my word.”