Page 37 of Montana Groom of Convenience (Montana Cowboys #5)

C arly watched the buggy approach and told herself there was no reason to be upset. The occupants were just a young family out for a drive. Perhaps they’d seen the smoke and come to investigate. Yes, that had to be it. She said so to Sawyer.

“I suppose that could be why they are coming.”

“But you don’t think so?”

“They can see that the fire is out and there is no danger, yet they keep coming. And they look as if they have a purpose in mind.”

She studied the couple and had to agree.

Father stood at the bottom of the lane, but she remained a hundred feet back and didn’t go forward.

For all her reassuring assessment, she couldn’t ignore the eager look on the young man’s face, and it made her nervous even though she could not think why it should.

The buggy stopped in front of Father.

Clinging to Sawyer’s hand, Carly edged closer so she could hear every word .

“Hello, is this the Morrison place?” the man called, ending Carly’s hope that they were out for a little drive.

“Aye, ’tis. What can I do for you?” Father answered.

“I’m Art Jacobs.” The man was shockingly blond and from what she could tell, of average build. “This is my wife, Elsie.” She, too, was blonde with thick braids coiled about her head. A dainty woman. “Our two little boys, Neil and Ernst.” A boy ducked down behind his mother.

Father waited for the man to state his business.

Mr. Jacobs pulled a piece of newspaper from his breast pocket and held it toward Father.

“I saw your ad. My grandfather died not long ago and left me money. He knew of my desire to have my own ranch, so when we saw your ad, we knew it was a sign from God. We’d like to look around, and if we like what we see, we’d like to buy your place.

” He reached over and rested his hand over his wife’s. “So far, we’re favorably impressed.”

Carly swayed.

Sawyer’s arm slipped around her waist. “Are you okay?” he murmured,

“I will be when he tells them the ranch is no longer for sale.”

Father limped closer to the buggy. “Two sons, you say? Which is which?”

“Neil is the older. He’s eight. Ernst is four months old.”

Mrs. Jacobs sat the baby up so Father could see him.

“Aye, both are handsome lads.”

Carly’s heart thudded reluctantly. “Sons.” She hissed the word. “How can I compete with that?”

“They aren’t his sons,” Sawyer said, his tone suggesting Father would surely understand that .

Carly rolled her head back and forth. No one knew how important male children were in Father’s opinion. She’d never been able to fill that need in his life.

Father seemed to remember Carly and Sawyer standing behind him and introduced them.

“Hello,” Carly murmured, but neither she nor Sawyer stepped forward to shake hands.

“Step down,” Father invited. “My daughter will make tea, and we’ll talk about things.”

She glowered at the back of her father’s head, then steamed toward the house, Sawyer keeping in step.

“Why is he inviting them in? Why isn’t he telling them they’ll have to find another ranch to buy? Why is he such a stubborn old man?”

Sawyer caught her hand and stopped her headlong flight. He faced her. “I’m certain he can’t be seriously entertaining their interest.”

“No? Then why is he inviting them in?”

Sawyer wagged his head back and forth. “I wish I knew.” His smile was regretful. “I wish we’d had a chance to finish our conversation. We’ll make time later.”

Carly had finally summoned the courage to speak to him of the changes in her feelings. She’d said she wanted him to see her as his wife. Had been about to say she cared for him when this intrusion was thrust upon her.

She sucked in air until her insides felt steady. “I’ll make tea because it’s the hospitable thing to do, but I’m not feeling very welcoming toward them.”

Jill waited at the doorway, Skippy in her arms. “Who are they?”

Carly provided the names. “They have an eight- year-old boy you can play with.” No point in passing her resentment on to the child.

Jill pulled Skippy closer. “I don’t like boys. They’re mean.”

Sawyer ruffled his sister’s hair. “Not all of them are.”

Jill ducked away and watched the company walk toward the house, their pace slow as Carly’s father led the way.

Carly rushed to make tea. She’d serve cookies, too. The sooner they had tea, the sooner they’d depart.

They entered. Sawyer hurriedly put more chairs and stools around the table while Carly served the tea.

All the while, Father kept up a running commentary.

“The town is nice. Has everything a man or woman could want.” He paused long enough to lower himself to a chair.

“There’s a school and a church.” His voice momentarily deepened as he adjusted his leg.

“Our land borders Wolf River to the east.” On and on he went.

Why are you telling these people all this? You can’t seriously be thinking of selling the ranch? After all I did.

The visitors finished their tea, complimented Carly on the delicious cookies, and grew restless.

“Carly will show you around.” Father turned to her. “Show them the buildings and yard first, then take them out to see the land.”

She stared at him. Who was this man? He surely couldn’t be her father and treat her like this. What if she wasn’t his child? Maybe she was a foundling. Had been left on their doorstep. Or perhaps Mother had rescued her from a dying mother. That would explain why Father could do this to her .

Even so, she owed him for providing her a home.

But she would not have any part in encouraging this young couple to buy the ranch. “Father, I am unable to show them around.”

Father looked ready to sputter a protest. Then his expression hardened. She half expected him to order her to comply.

Instead, he turned to Sawyer. “Will you?—?”

“Sir, I’m sorry, but I, too, am unable to show them around.”

Father gave them both a stinging look.

Jill eased forward, a shy look on her face. “I’ll take them.”

Father patted Jill’s head and sent Carly an accusing look. “Child, ’tis very kind of you. Let’s do it together.”

Young Mrs. Jacobs clutched the baby to her chest and sent her husband a worried look.

Mr. Jacobs cleared his throat. “Is there a problem?”

Father’s look challenged Carly to say anything. “Nothing that concerns you.”

“If you’re sure.”

Father grimaced as he got to his feet, doing nothing to hide his pain. In fact, if Carly wasn’t mistaken, he wanted her to see how badly it hurt him to move.

Carly’s conscience smote her, but she didn’t change her mind not even when Father moaned as he grabbed his cane and made his way to the door.

He waved for the Jacobses to join him. “Come then, we’ll have a look around.”

Mr. Jacobs looked from Father to Carly to Sawyer. Hesitated, and then gave a dismissive shrug. “Thank you, sir.”

Jill stayed at Father’s side .

Carly waited until they headed toward the barn, then spun about to face Sawyer. “I can’t believe he is doing this.”

“Nor can I.”

“He’s been toying with us this whole time.” Letting them believe if she did certain things, he wouldn’t sell the ranch.

An uncertain smile lifted Sawyer’s lips. “Not that it’s been so bad, though.”

Their gazes held.

She allowed a little smile. “There are parts I don’t regret.

But—” How could she ignore the fact her father was this very minute planning to sell the place?

After pushing her into marriage? After forcing her to invite Sawyer into her room?

But like he said, it wasn’t all bad, and she certainly didn’t regret that he was her husband.

In name only. She went to the window and watched their progress— her stomach burning. She’d hoped to find the courage to tell Sawyer of her changing feelings, and now this. Prospective buyers. Father showing them around when he should be telling them the place was no longer for sale.

She stayed at the window, Sawyer by her side, until the little group made its way back to the house.

Rather than come inside, the Jacobses returned to their buggy.

Good. They were leaving.

Father stepped inside. Jill sat down on the grass to play with the kitten.

“They changed their mind?”

“Not at all. They are going to see as much of the land as they can. Someone should show them around, but I cannae.” He gave Carly and Sawyer dark looks. “Aye, and it appears I’ll get no help here.”

“I can’t believe—” What was the use? He’d never seen her for who she was. Why should she expect he would now?

“I invited them to join us for dinner.”

She stuffed back all the angry words rushing to her mind.

“Aye, but they refused. I dinnae doubt they felt the lack of hospitality.” He plunked down at the table. “Wouldn’t yer mother be dismayed?”

“Aye, and now wouldn’t she be?” Likely as much at father as at daughter. “Mother would never go back on her word.”

“Aye,” he said, but he didn’t change his mind.

It was past dinnertime, and she was hungry, so she served the meal. Despite her hunger, she found it difficult to swallow and finally scraped most of her food into the cat dish. As soon as she had the dishes done, she hurried to her room to change into trousers.

She sat on the edge of the bed and let the memories of Sawyer rushing to rescue her from the flames drown out the bitter taste of her father’s treachery.

She’d seen the fear in Sawyer’s eyes and had an inkling of how he must have felt to see flames catching on her skirt.

He’d demanded to know why she wasn’t wearing trousers.

The question brought a sweet smile to her lips.

So unlike Bart wanting her to pretty up.

It seemed Sawyer accepted her the way she was.

She didn’t need to put on a dress to please him or to gain his attention.

I want to be your wife .

She’d almost said how she felt. And then the Jacobses had come along, upsetting everything.