Montana Groom of Convenience

by Linda Ford

  Kate spoke to Jill. “Will you let me put your foot in the water? It’s cold but that will help.”

  Jill looked at Carly, her eyes brimming with tears and fears.

  “Do you want me to do it?” Carly asked.

  Jill nodded.

  Carly hunkered down beside Sawyer. Together they tended the child. Their gazes caught and held and a thousand thoughts raced through her mind. She cared about this little girl in a way that made her heart tremble. And perhaps cared just a little for a man who would hold his little sister so tenderly and murmur that everything would be okay. He would make sure it was.

  Jill squirmed. “It’s not hurting so much now.”

  “We need to get her home,” Sawyer said.

  Carly nodded agreement.

  Sawyer carried his sister back to the picnic spot. The others began to gather up items.

  “No need for the rest of you to end the outing.”

  Dawson, the eldest, looked about. “It’s early yet. We can stay and let the children play.”

  The family gathered round them to say goodbye before Sawyer and Carly began the return trek to the ranch, Jill in his arms.

  Carly stayed at his side, holding Jill’s hand where it lay across her chest. Sawyer’s hand covered them both. It made walking a little awkward but Carly wasn’t about to end the connection between them.

  In that moment, she knew they had become family.

  *

  Jill had been hurt. Sawyer had not known he could feel another person’s pain until now. If not for Carly’s steadying presence, he didn’t know what he would do. He held her hand and Jill’s as they hurried back to the Marshalls’ ranch house.

  “I’ll get Father while you settle her in the wagon.” Carly ducked into the house while Sawyer went to the wagon.

  Two old men hobbled from the house.

  “The wee lassie is hurt.” Father Morrison hurried to the wagon and climbed into the back. “Ack, poor lassie.”

  “Is she okay?” Grandfather Marshall called from the doorway.

  Jill poked her head over the edge of the wagon box. “I cut my arm and my foot on a rock.”

  “I’m sorry. You’re in good hands, though. Robert, I’ll take care of that business we discussed.”

  Sawyer would have helped Carly into the wagon but she was up before he could reach her. She sat beside him, leaning forward as if she could make the wagon go faster.

  Sawyer was equally anxious to get home even though he knew there was no need for rush. Jill’s cuts had stopped bleeding. Her injuries were not serious.

  The way his heart ached was serious. It both alarmed him and enticed him.

  His pulse settled to a normal pace as they made the journey.

  By the time they reached home, he could speak without his words catching in his throat. “It scares me to think of her hurt.”

  “It didn’t look serious to me and Kate didn’t think it was.” She shuddered a little. “I suppose I had cuts every bit as bad. Likely you did, too.”

  He understood she tried to reassure him with those words. “I was a boy. Boys get banged up lots. But Jill’s just a little girl.”

  “I know.” She put her hand over his.

  He turned his palm to hers. His insides settled.

  Back at the ranch, he carried Jill in and Carly arranged her in the armchair across from her father’s. Father Morrison followed them and sat down facing Jill. “Aye, now ye’ll be keeping me company, I think.”

  Jill nodded. “I can’t walk.”

  Carly placed a pillow behind her and unearthed some children’s books.

  Then she and Sawyer stood side by side, watching the girl.

  “Look, it’s stopped bleeding.” Jill held up her arm. Her foot had stopped bleeding after being placed in the cold water of the creek.

  “I’ll get a cloth and clean up the blood on your arm.” Carly went to the cupboard.

  Sawyer felt her departure like the blast of winter wind.

  She returned and cleaned up Jill’s arm.

  Sawyer watched them, a feeling foreign, yet familiar tugging at him. How could he feel like he had seen this before? And then it hit him. A memory so full of emotion it left him breathless and confused. Made him want to reach out and pull Jill and Carly into his arms and never let them go. He allowed himself to place his hand on Carly’s shoulder, needing the contact, hoping she wouldn’t think it untoward.

  The memory ballooned within him, threatening to choke off his breath.

  He dropped his hand and rushed from the house. He didn’t slow until he leaned against the fence beyond the barn and stared toward the horses, though he couldn’t have said which animals were grazing before him.

  He didn’t know how long he stood there, his thoughts a whirlwind of hopelessness as he tried to push away the memory. He didn’t move when Carly came to his side, standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

  For several minutes, she didn’t speak but her presence settled him like nothing else could have.

  “Seeing Jill’s injury reminded me of something.” A beat of waiting. If she didn’t want to hear this, she could change the subject or move away. She didn’t and he continued.

  “Johnny fell and cut his arm in almost the same place as Jill. It was my fault. We’d been out playing and I climbed a tree.” His breath shuddered out and steadied again when Carly took his hand and squeezed.

  “Johnny followed, always trying to keep up to his big brother. He slipped and fell against a stub of a branch. Tore his arm badly.” He stopped as the memory of his little brother filled every pore of his body, then he forced himself to continue. “I carried my crying little brother home. Told Mama what happened. She cleaned up the cut and tied a bandage around it. When she was done, she sat in the big armchair where she often held us to read stories to us. She lifted Johnny to her lap and pulled me to her side.” His throat thickened and for a moment he couldn’t go on.

  Carly waited, calm and accepting.

  “She said, ‘Sawyer, I’m proud of you for taking care of your little brother. Accidents happen and no one is to blame for them.’ She took my chin and made me look at her. ‘Promise me you will never forget that.’ Of course I promised.”

  “Of course you did. But have you kept the promise?”

  He heard the doubt in her voice. “I think so.”

  “Are you blaming yourself for Jill’s accident?”

  “I should have been watching her.” He tried, and failed, to keep the harsh note of self-accusation from his voice.

  “It was an accident. No one is to blame. Children get scrapes and bruises unless they are wrapped in cotton wool and never allowed to play.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “Do you blame yourself that Jill was alone after your parents died?”

  “I stayed away longer than I should have.” There, he’d admitted it. Confessed to a sense of blame. How would she answer that?

  “But you didn’t stay away forever.”

  “That’s so.” He met her look. Found sweet release in her words.

  “I think you should stop blaming yourself for their deaths. Your mama wouldn’t like it.”

  He wanted to dismiss the idea. But every time she said he wasn’t to blame, he grew closer to believing it. “I’ll try to stop blaming myself.”

  She chuckled. “It’s hard to let go of an old belief, isn’t it? Try putting a new one in its place.”

  “What are you suggesting?” He hoped she had a concrete idea.

  “A Bible verse. ‘Give thanks unto the Lord: for He is good: for His mercy endureth forever.’”

  He breathed in the words, letting them sink into the depths of his being. Yes, God was good. Even when created mankind wasn’t. “That’s a good verse to remember.”

  She stepped away, heading for the barn. “I have something to do.”

  She’d changed from her dress to trousers and her wide-brimmed hat hung down her back.

  “You’re going riding?” It
was as much statement as question.

  “Kate said they had kittens ready to leave their mama. I’m going to bring one home for Jill. I think she’d like that.”

  He followed her and stayed nearby as she saddled Sunny. He couldn’t explain to anyone, least of all himself, why he could barely restrain himself from reaching out and grabbing the bridle and begging her to stay.

  She led the horse from the barn. “Make sure Jill is okay.”

  They stood inches apart. Don’t go, his heart said. “Be careful,” his mouth said.

  She grinned and stretched up on tiptoe and planted a kiss on his cheek.

  Before he could react, she swung into the saddle and called, “Never. I’ll never be careful.” She waved.

  He lifted his hand in a farewell salute as he watched her ride away. After she was out of sight, he realized his arm was still raised and he lowered it just enough to touch the spot she’d kissed. He was grateful no one could see him standing in the middle of the yard, grinning widely at nothing.

  After a bit, he pulled himself together and returned to the house where he had to explain that Carly had gone for a ride. He didn’t want to tell Jill about the kitten. Let it be a surprise.

  Jill and Father Morrison had set up a checkers game and played it.

  Sawyer wandered from window to window.

  “Son, it’s too early for her to be back. You might as well light somewhere before you wear a trench in the floor.”

  He hadn’t realized he had made so many trips. “I’ll do the chores.”

  “You do that.” Father Morrison sounded relieved at Sawyer’s announcement and Jill giggled.

  Out in the barn, he fed the animals, which didn’t take nearly long enough. He checked the harnessing. All in good shape. He climbed the ladder to check on the hayloft. And if he pushed open the doors, allowing him a view of the trail that would bring Carly home, it was purely coincidental. Wasn’t it?

  He was happy he didn’t have anyone there with him to demand an honest answer.

  He sat in the doorway, his feet swinging until he saw her coming. He stayed there until she was almost close enough to see him watching and waiting before he closed the doors and slipped down the ladder.

  He was brushing Big Harry when she led her horse into the barn.

  “See what I have.” She pulled a fluffy gray-and-white kitten from her shirt and held it close to her face. The kitten meowed and licked her cheek.

  Carly laughed. “It’s very affectionate. The friendliest one of the bunch. Do you want to hold her while I take care of Sunny?” She took his agreement for granted and handed him the little bundle of fur.

  The kitten was soft and warm and purred. “I haven’t had a cat since…” His voice trailed off.

  She nodded. “Since your mama was alive. Right?”

  “Couldn’t have pets when we were always moving.”

  “Maybe I should have picked one for you, too.”

  He chuckled at the teasing note in her voice. “Maybe Jill will let me share her cat.”

  She unsaddled Sunny, brushed him, let him drink and made sure he had feed. “Shall we take the kitten to Jill?”

  He held the little cat toward her but she had already stepped through the door and let him follow her.

  “Yer back,” Father Morrison said as they stepped inside.

  “We’re back and we brought something for Jill.”

  Jill turned around, a cautiously eager expression on her face. She searched Carly’s hands and seeing nothing, showed her disappointment.

  “Don’t give up so soon,” Carly said with a laugh and stepped aside so Jill could see the kitten in Sawyer’s hands.

  Jill came out of the chair, her sore foot completely forgotten and rushed to Sawyer’s side. “Is it for me?”

  Carly plucked the kitten from Sawyer’s hands and handed it to Jill. “She’s all yours.”

  Jill grinned so wide, Sawyer thought it must hurt. She pressed the kitten to her cheek. “Thank you. I love her. What’s her name?”

  “That’s up to you.”

  Jill returned to the chair, the kitten cupped in her hands. “It will have to be a special name.” She giggled as the kitten squirmed. “She wants to explore.” The kitten roamed the perimeter of the chair cushion, edging behind Jill and then it teetered at the front, falling to the floor. It skittered from corner to corner, jumping at imaginary dangers. Jill laughed at its antics.

  “Her name is Skippy because she skips from place to place.”

  “Skippy?” Carly pretended to give the name serious consideration. Finally she nodded. “I like that. What do you think, Sawyer?”

  He’d been so caught up in the moment, enjoying his little sister’s happiness, silently thanking Carly for this kind gesture, that he startled at her question. He quickly recovered. “Skippy is a fine name.”

  Skippy sat and gave a plaintive meow.

  “She wants me.” Jill hurried to the kitten and retired to the chair. The little ball of fur was soon asleep on her lap. Jill looked at Sawyer. “Thank you.”

  Sawyer’s heart swelled against his ribs. It was the first time he’d seen his little sister acting like the child he remembered before her parents died and his throat clogged with emotion.

  “Thank Carly. She rode all the way back to the Marshalls’ to get it for you.”

  Jill slowly turned her eyes to Carly. He saw in them a look he knew personally…resistance and caution.

  Would she thank Carly? More important, would she accept Carly and the home she offered?

  Chapter Twelve

  Carly 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 had 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. She 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 predication 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 off
ered them to him, knowing he must miss his daughter, Kate, now that she had 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.”