by Linda Ford
He acknowledged each introduction and hoped he’d be able to remember them when he met them later.
The women returned to their wagons and lifted out baskets.
Annie explained. “We brought a party.”
Carly pulled Sawyer to the side and waved the visitors in. Then she and Sawyer followed. Jill had joined the children, though he noticed she held back, taking her time. He could hardly blame her. So many strangers and all so enthusiastic. It was a bit overwhelming even for him. He expected it was the same, or worse, for his little sister.
Everyone greeted Mr. Morrison and inquired about his health. The old man beamed with pleasure. “This is just like when yer Mother and I married,” he said to Carly.
“Not quite,” she murmured to Sawyer.
He bent close to answer. “Let everyone have their party. Our agreement was between you and me. No need to share the details.”
She met his gaze, her eyes dark and—why did he think she sought something from him? What could it be? If he knew, he would do his best to give it. She smiled. It ricocheted in his heart, setting free a dozen or more fluttering butterflies of awareness.
He smiled as the feelings flapped upward. Told himself it was only because he wished to offer her encouragement. Not because he couldn’t keep his feelings stuffed away. He considered the last thought. That couldn’t be right. After all, he had only met her this morning. Hardly time for anything to change…especially his long experience at not having feelings.
Since this morning, he’d met her, married her and now was about to celebrate their marriage with a host of friends. He promised himself he would do his utmost to make it a party she would remember. Seemed the least he could do, considering she had given up any hope of a romantic union.
Soon a feast of cakes and cookies and two pies filled the table. Chairs, a bench from under the hooks for the coats and a stool or two provided seating for all the adults. The children were content to sit on the floor as they enjoyed the repast. Jill joined them, though she sat at the edge of the gathering. He recognized the feeling because it was familiar. He distanced himself from people, too. With a start, he looked around the crowded table and realized that might no longer be possible. Or even desirable.
Dawson, the eldest Marshall brother, lifted his hand to get attention. “I’d like to hear more about Sawyer than what Annie told us.”
Sawyer stiffened at the question. He sat next to Carly, pressed tight to her elbow. She must have felt his reaction for she laughed and answered in his stead. “Why not let the poor man enjoy an evening of peace before you all start on him?”
A chorus of protests greeted her request. “We haven’t started anything,” Dawson said above the uproar.
“Only because I stopped you.” Carly’s grin never faltered, yet he detected a fierce warning note and perhaps the others did, too.
“I expect we could tell him a little about you,” Conner—the middle brother—said.
Carly groaned. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
Sawyer leaned forward. “I’m all ears.”
He ignored the way Carly poked her finger into his ribs. When she did it a second time, he captured her hand and held it firmly enough she couldn’t escape.
The others noticed and nudged one another. Annie whispered loudly, “She’s already learning submission.”
Carly jerked her hand free and scowled at them all, saving her fiercest scowl for Sawyer. “No one lords it over me.”
“Now now, lassie,” her father said. “Give the man a chance to show you how pleasant it can be to have someone to help you and take care of you.”
“I don’t need anyone to take care of me.” She began to push to her feet but Annie, at her other side, pulled her down.
“Carly, sit down and enjoy the party.” She leaned close to whisper. Sawyer heard her words. “Set a good example for the children.”
They all glanced toward the youngsters. Several watched the adults with interest. Sawyer noticed that Jill seemed particularly drawn to the conversation.
He studied her, hoping beyond hope that she wasn’t tucking Carly’s words into that little brain of hers to throw back at one of them the next time someone asked something of her.
Carly sat back down and with a strained smile, asked for someone to pass the plate of cookies.
Sawyer thought it best to change the direction of the conversation. “Carly said something about the Marshalls being big around here.”
The women all laughed. “It’s because they are big.” Pretty Isabelle held her hand above her head to indicate they were tall.
Carly held up her hand to get the attention of the others. “I meant because the Marshalls pretty much run the place.”
The men protested. “Not all of us. Just Grandfather.”
Mr. Morrison chuckled. “He is a fine man.”
One by one, sometimes all speaking at once, Sawyer learned that Grandfather Marshall had come west, the first of the early ranchers. When gold was found nearby and a rough mining town, Wolf Hollow, sprang up, he saw the need for a gentler, kinder place and built the beginnings of Bella Creek.
“Over a year ago, in the dead of winter, a fire took out a block of buildings,” said the youngest brother, Logan Marshall. “Among them the schoolhouse, the doctor’s quarters, the barbershop, the lawyer’s office and a store. They’ve all since been rebuilt.”
Logan’s wife, Sadie, took up the story. “They needed a new teacher and doctor. I came as the teacher.”
Logan’s grin was wide with pride. “I persuaded her she’d be a happier woman as my wife.” The look he gave Sadie was so filled with love that Sawyer couldn’t take his eyes off the pair. He would not admit that he had denied himself the one thing he longed for—love—even before entering into a loveless marriage. Something about losing his mother and brother and the many moves afterwards that he and his father had made caused him to close his heart to that emotion. And to every emotion. Seeing the open love between the couples at the table made him feel hollow inside.
“We adopted the three children.”
He heard everyone’s story of finding love and family. This was what he wanted—family for Jill. That’s all that mattered.
He learned that Conner worked with wild horses, gentling them in a special way. “Like I saw an old man do years ago.”
The stories grew wilder and funnier with lots of laughter to follow.
Baby Ellie had been put down to sleep on a blanket. But when Mr. Morrison roared with laughter, she jerked awake and cried.
Kate scooped her up and jostled her to calm her. “We need to get her home to bed.”
Conner unwound from the table. “It’s time to go home.”
The others rose at his announcement. And in a flurry of activity, the women gathered up their things and organized children, and the men carried out dishes.
Carly had risen, too, as had Sawyer and together they went to the door to thank everyone and wave goodbye.
The wagons headed down the lane in the silvery light of night. Annie turned and rang her bell. A jangle of many bells accompanied the departing wagons.
Sawyer and Carly stood side by side, their elbows touching. Neither of them moved.
Carly let out a long sigh. “Well, that’s that. I wonder if I should have said anything.”
“About what?”
She faced him, her eyes catching the lamplight from inside. Her mouth worked back and forth as if she dealt with a bad taste. “About our marriage.”
“What would you say? That I’m sleeping in the storeroom?”
She shrugged. “Seems wrong to deceive them.”
Not often something triggered a sense of frustration in him, but this did. “Carly, we signed papers making us man and wife. We each have our reasons for this marriage. We understand what we’ve done. Does it really matter what others know or think about it?”
She drew back slightly but did not tear her gaze from his. Nor did he tear his from he
rs as he continued, “I thought we were resolved on this matter.” Was she having regrets? Would she change her mind?
She looked down, sucked in a deep breath and lifted her face again.
He saw the determination in her face and held his breath, fearing she had decided to end this pretend marriage.
“I have not changed my mind. Nor do I intend to. The ranch is far too important to me to risk having Father sell it simply because I’m not married.”
His lungs emptied in a whoosh. “Good.” On his part, it was all about a home for Jill. He had to keep believing that was the only reason…not secretly wishing for something he had lost when he was seven years old.
Carly edged away. “It’s bedtime. Father, do you need help?”
The older man had watched them set up beds in the different rooms without making a comment. “I can manage on my own.” He didn’t move.
Carly waited. Seems the man wasn’t going to be the first to retire.
“Fine. Jill, I made a bed for you in my room.”
Jill’s head jerked up. She’d been half asleep. She tried to look stubborn. Sawyer knew she wanted to argue. But was too tired. Instead she got to her feet. “Fine. It don’t matter to me where I sleep.” And she shuffled into the room.
Sawyer watched her go. This would be the first time she was out of his sight for more than a few minutes since he had found her. “Is it okay for her to go to sleep now? Didn’t the nurse say to keep her awake twelve hours?”
“I’ll check on her but I don’t see any sign that she’s got any ill effects from her accident.”
He nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”
She patted his arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.”
Mr. Morrison’s attention followed Jill and then he studied Sawyer. “Yer gonna sleep there?” He tipped his head toward the small room.
Sawyer nodded.
Mr. Morrison turned to Carly. “How long do you plan for this to go on?”
“Pardon?” Carly did her best to look confused but Sawyer figured her father wasn’t any more convinced she didn’t know what he meant than Sawyer was.
“Dinnae toy with me, lass.”
“Father, you’ll have to be clearer about what you mean.”
Sawyer wondered if she knew her attempt at innocent confusion wasn’t working. The gal had a face that revealed far too much.
“I suppose it’s understandable considering you’re practically strangers.” His eyes grew dark, filled with warning. “But I expect a real marriage.”
Carly’s chin went up. “You want to see the papers we signed?”
“Dinnae pretend that’s what I meant, Carly Morrison, though I suppose ’tis now Carly Gallagher.”
She turned away. “You get yourself to bed while I clean the kitchen.”
Sawyer stood by the door, wondering which way to go to avoid the tension between the two. He made up his mind as Carly gathered the cups to wash. “I’ll help.”
“No need.” She kept her attention fixed on the basin as she filled it with hot water.
“No bother.” It triggered a memory. “I used to help my ma with dishes before she died. I enjoyed it.” They talked as they worked, with her telling little things from her childhood and he about growing up in the city of Philadelphia.
Mr. Morrison got up from his chair and hobbled to his room, muttering under his breath about his daughter and her wily ways.
As soon as the door closed behind him, the air went out of Carly and she sagged over the dishpan.
Sawyer watched her. “He’s upset you.”
She attacked washing the cups and handed them to him to dry. “He’ll get used to the way it is.” She snuffled.
He bent his head to look at her. “Are you crying?” He didn’t know how to handle a crying woman.
Chapter Eight
Carly swiped at her nose with her wet hand. “I’m not crying.” She wouldn’t. She quickly finished the last cup and carried the basin of water outside to toss on Mother’s flower bed that Carly had kept alive and thriving since her mother’s passing. The tulips had blossomed bright yellow and red. The lavender, peonies and other perennials were growing well. They would blossom when their time came.
She glanced up the hill even though she couldn’t see the tiny graveyard in the dark. A cool breeze shivered across her and she wrapped her arms about her, the basin clutched to her side. Mother and the baby brothers lay up there.
A tear trickled down her nose. She blinked her eyes clear. She didn’t need a man. She didn’t need love but she couldn’t help but be grateful her mother wasn’t alive to witness this marriage.
Father had forced her to take this step and she wouldn’t allow regrets.
She bent to wipe her eyes on her sleeve and tucked determination into her heart.
Before she could return indoors, a shadow fell from the open door. Sawyer waited and watched. At least he didn’t say anything.
They stood a few feet apart. He blocked the light from the kitchen, leaving his face in the dark, though likely his expression would have been inscrutable even if she’d seen it. She could only hope her face was equally shadowed. Neither broke the silence.
Father’s bed creaked as he lay down.
Big Harry snuffled as he readjusted his position.
An owl hooted from the nearby trees.
The scent of silver willows wafted from the river. Spicy as cinnamon.
Still Carly and Sawyer did not move, waiting, assessing. In the stillness, her decision grew firm. Her hopes and expectations adjusted. Some might have said she married in haste and would repent in leisure. Right here and now, with thoughts of Mother close and Sawyer waiting in the doorway, she vowed she would not repent. She would allow no regrets. Although neither of them expected a real marriage, they both had expectations that they discussed. Meeting those was enough for her.
She took a step forward. Sawyer moved back to allow her to enter the house.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Everything is fine. Do you have what you need for the night?”
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
His thanks eased her tension. They could both be polite and gentle with each other, thus making the agreement between them pleasant.
“Good night, then.” She crossed to her room.
“Good night.” Two doors closed quietly.
Carly lit the lamp on her bedside table and turned it down low. She sat on the side of her bed, facing Jill. Should she waken the child to make sure she was okay? She smiled as she thought of the foolishness of doing so but she had been instructed to make sure the child didn’t slip into unconsciousness.
Jill’s eyelids fluttered.
“You aren’t sleeping, are you?”
Jill squeezed her eyes tightly.
Carly laughed. “That’s not going to work.”
Jill flipped over so Carly stared at her back.
“It’s all right. You can take your time deciding what you want from your new life.” Her heart went out to the child who had lost her parents, then been shuffled from home to home as if no one cared enough to keep her. “I remember something my own mother said. ‘Carly, you can be about as happy as you decide to be. Or you can choose to be unhappy.’ After she died, I needed to remind myself of those words over and over.”
She quickly prepared for the night as she talked, leaving her trousers on top of her boots at the side of the bed. Thinking of her mother had triggered so many memories. “Mother used to read me stories at bedtime. And when I got older, she read to me from the Bible.” She pulled her Bible from the nearby drawer. “Now when I read the Bible, I think of her.”
Jill snorted. “Shouldn’t you think of God?”
Carly laughed softly. “You’re awfully smart. Yes, of course, I should think of God and I do. It’s comforting to know my mother is with Him in heaven.”
Jill switched to her back, her face shadowed so Carly couldn’t read her expression. Thoug
h there might not have been anything to see, as the child was as good as Sawyer at hiding her feelings. “You think you’ll see your mama again?”
“Yes, I’ll see her in heaven.”
“Not me.” She flipped to her side again, allowing Carly to see nothing but her back.
Carly went to the side of the bed, holding the lamp so she could see Jill’s face. “Why do you think that?” But Jill buried her face in her pillow.
“Because I’m bad. Bad girls don’t go to heaven.” Her voice was muffled, perhaps explaining the heavy tone. Though Carly wasn’t convinced.
“Who said you were a bad girl?”
Jill turned and stared at Carly, her eyes narrowed and her mouth tight. “People.”
“What people?”
No answer.
“Sawyer?”
Jill shook her head.
Carly knew an unexpected and shuddering relief to hear that Sawyer had not condemned the girl. “I know it wasn’t your mama and papa.” She thought of all the child had been through. According to Sawyer, Jill had been moved from home to home. Was it because she had acted out? If someone had spoken such unkind words, Carly could understand why Jill would see no reason to being good. “I’m guessing it was some of the people who took you in.” She perched on the side of Jill’s bed, paying no mind when the child scooted as far away as possible.
“Jill, honey, those people were wrong. They didn’t understand what it’s like to lose both your mama and papa and feel alone and scared.”
“I wasn’t scared.” The words were spoken bravely but Carly knew them to be untrue.
“Sometimes when we’re hurting and afraid, we don’t know how to act. We might even say and do unkind things. But listen to me. That doesn’t mean we are bad people. And when we do bad things, all we need to do is confess them to Jesus. Let me read you a verse my mother taught me when I was about your age.”
She still held her Bible and opened it to First John chapter one, verse nine. “‘If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.’ That means because God always keeps His word and is fair, He forgives our sins. Don’t you think what God says is more to be believed than what some people say?”