by Linda Ford
Up to this point, Father hadn’t spoken. “I’ll manage fine. Aye, I’ll make the best of it.”
Doc pushed from the table. “Then I’ll be on my way.”
Sawyer and Carly escorted him to the door and waved him off. They exchanged regretful looks.
“Granddad, are you okay?” Jill’s voice jerked their attention to the pair.
Father stood, gingerly putting weight on his leg. His face was almost as white as his beard.
“Father!”
He lifted his hand to stall her. “I know my leg will never be the same but I’m not about to give up.” With the aid of the cane Doc had provided, Father limped across the room. “I think I’ll sit outside for a bit.
Tears flooded Jill’s eyes. “Why can’t the doctor make him better? What if he dies?”
Sawyer and Carly knelt on either side of the little girl.
Sawyer spoke first. “He’ll get stronger every day.”
“Honey, do you think he’ll let a sore leg defeat him?” Carly waited.
Jill met her eyes. After a moment’s consideration, she shook her head.
Carly smiled. “Of course he won’t. He’s far too stubborn.”
“Can I go see him?”
“I think he’d like that.”
“I’ll let him hold Skippy.” Jill picked up her cat and headed outdoors. They heard her chattering away.
Sawyer and Carly stood. Carly lifted her gaze to his. Saw his concern. “It must be hard for him,” Sawyer said.
“Yes, but it’s the news he expected from the beginning. That’s why he insisted I needed a man.”
Sawyer blinked, pulled that inscrutable mask over his face. “That’s why you married me.”
“You know that.” They both did. “I don’t regret it.”
They stared into each other’s eyes. Neither blinking. She wished she would read his thoughts, know what he was thinking…feeling.
He gave a little nod. “Nor do I.” And with that, he strode from the house.
She went to the window and watched as he went to the barn and brought out Big Harry.
He looked toward the house.
She raised her hand. Couldn’t say if he saw her beyond the glass. But he touched the brim of his hat and went to hitch the horse to the seed drill. He then went to the field to resume planting.
Carly turned away from the window. No regrets. It was a pleasant thought.
Jill came back inside. “Granddad says he’s got things to do.”
Carly returned to the window and saw Father hobbling toward the barn. She knew better than to warn him to take it easy. He’d have to find his own pace and wouldn’t welcome interference from her.
*
Over the next few days, life settled into a peaceful routine. Sawyer plowed and planted the crop. Carly finished planting the garden and baked up a storm—several varieties of cookies, an oatmeal-raisin cake that Father liked, bread and cinnamon rolls, enjoying Jill’s company as she worked.
“You know how to make pie?” Jill asked as they finished breakfast dishes.
“Sure do. Why?”
“You should make some today. Like maybe raisin. That’s Sawyer’s favorite.”
“I suppose we could make pies,” Carly answered cautiously. Normally she found making pies, baking even, to be a waste of time…normally, she would be out riding the range…but Sawyer had shown appreciation of her efforts, causing her to take a great deal of pride in producing something special for every meal.
She blinked and stared out the window. She hadn’t ridden out since last week. What if the cows had wandered? She’d have to check on them this afternoon. In the meantime, she and Jill prepared pie dough, rolled out the crusts and filled the pie tins with raisin filling that Jill had stirred as it cooked.
She roasted enough meat to give them ample leftovers for supper.
A little later, she sent Jill to call Sawyer from the field for dinner.
Carly went to the barn to call Father. He’d taken to sorting through the old harnesses and leather scraps. “Making something new out of the old,” he’d explained. Carly was happy to see him occupied with something that gave him pleasure.
She hurried back to the house to set out the noon meal. Sawyer entered, water glistening in his hair. His sleeves rolled to his elbows to reveal muscular arms. He’d grown deeply tanned in the past few days.
He sniffed. “Smells good in here.”
“Carly baked you a raisin pie,” Jill said, looking pleased with herself.
“You did?” His eyes must have captured the sun and brought it indoors with him.
She had been about to say it wasn’t just for Sawyer but the words stuck in the back of her mouth.
“Hope you don’t mind sharing,” Father said.
“Not at all.” The men grinned at each other.
Somehow Carly managed to serve the meal without spilling anything even though her arms felt wobbly.
She cut the pie and gave each a piece, careful to make Father’s and Sawyer’s the same exact size. Her baking efforts were rewarded with sighs of appreciation from both men.
Sawyer returned to the field after the meal. As soon as she had cleaned the kitchen, she turned to Father. “I’m going to check on the cows.” She spoke to Jill. “Do you want to come or stay with Skippy?”
The girl barely looked up from playing with the kitten. “I’ll stay here.”
A few minutes later, she rode Sunny from the yard, her journey taking her past Sawyer. She slowed to study how the planting was going. And if she did not look at the field, but rather at Sawyer, admiring the way his muscles rippled with the effort of holding Big Harry, well, who was to know? She wasn’t about to tell anyone.
Sawyer noticed her at the trail and pulled Big Harry to a halt. “Howdy,” he called.
“Planting is going good.”
“Yup. I’ll soon be done.”
“I’m going to check on the cows. Jill is staying with Father.”
They stared at each other across the planted field. His hat shielded his eyes so she wouldn’t have been able to see them even if they were close enough. As she watched, his expression never changed unless she counted the deepening of the grooves beside his mouth.
He touched the brim of his hat. “Be careful.”
She lifted her hand in a tiny salute. “Never.” She didn’t mean it. She didn’t take chances, just didn’t hearken to silly rules of society—no trousers for a woman, women couldn’t be cowboys, she should pretty up if she wanted a man. See, she’d gotten married without following those rules.
He tipped his head. “I know. That’s what concerns me.”
“I don’t do dangerous things.”
“I know.”
A silent understanding formed between them. As if he accepted the way she dressed and acted. And as if she promised not to do foolish things. “Okay,” she said, agreeing to the unspoken pact.
Her heart floated as she rode onward.
Not so long ago, she would have ridden the land alone and thought nothing of it but now she remembered Sawyer and Jill accompanying her and saw dozens of things she would have liked to share with them…the billowing white clouds, the hawk diving for its prey, the antelope racing away and the profusion of wildflowers. She would pick some on her way home and put them on Mother’s grave.
She found the cattle had moved to the west, grazing contentedly in a large, open pasture. Twenty more calves had been born. Well-fleshed in comparison to the longhorn stock. Father had done well to start the new breeding program.
She watched for a bit, but was anxious to get home and turned back. She picked flowers before she reached the homestead. Again she passed Sawyer. He was at the far corner, his back to her so he didn’t notice her return. She rode by without stopping.
Her first thought was to take the flowers to the cemetery but she reconsidered and as soon as Sunny was taken care of, went to the house. Jill and Father were outside, entertained by the kitten. “I have
flowers for Mother’s grave. Does anyone want to come with me?”
“Aye,” Father said.
“Can I come, too?” Jill asked.
“Of course.” The trio climbed the hill, taking their time as Father hobbled along.
She let him go in first and stood back, letting him pay his respects in private. She looked at the grave markers. Something to the left of Mother’s grave caught her eye. Four wooden crosses standing side by side. From where she stood, she could make out the names. John Gallagher. Sarah Gallagher. Judith Gallagher. Cecil Gallagher. Had Sawyer done this?
There was no other explanation.
“Jill, look.” She pointed.
Jill gasped. “Mama and Papa.” She tiptoed to the markers and sank down to her knees before them.
Carly followed slowly. She hunkered down beside the girl. “Would you like some flowers?”
Jill nodded, her eyes bright.
Carly divided her bouquet in half.
Jill placed a few flowers before her parents’ markers. “Maybe I should give some to Sawyer’s mama and brother.”
“That would be nice.” What a sweet thought to include the two she didn’t know.
Jill drew in a shaky breath.
Uncertain how the child would react, Carly followed her heart and pulled Jill close. When Jill turned to Carly, clinging to her, Carly hugged her, making soothing noises as Jill cried.
After a bit, the tears were spent but Jill remained in Carly’s embrace. Carly was not the least bit anxious to end the moment. A bond had been forged from her heart to Jill’s. Love had sealed the bond.
“I’m going back to the house,” Father said.
“I better go, too,” Jill said. “Skippy might be missing me.”
“I’ll be along shortly.” She waited until they were down the hill before she went to Mother’s grave. She placed the flowers near the headstone, then sat back.
What would her mother say if Carly could tell her about the confusion and uncertainty in her heart? How her feelings toward Sawyer were changing so that she wasn’t sure how to handle them.
“It isn’t what we agreed on. But I can’t help but admire him for so many things. His steadfastness, his tenderness toward Jill, his acceptance of me, his respect for Father.” She stopped talking. Bringing the words out in the open gave them too much power, made them too real.
You should never be embarrassed to tell someone how you feel.
Her mother had said those words when Carly spoke of her admiration for a teacher but confessed she didn’t feel she could tell the woman.
Sometimes, she silently argued, it was more than embarrassment that kept her from saying what she felt. Sometimes it was that she had given her word and meant to fulfill her promise.
She spent some time praying for strength and wisdom before she returned to the house to make supper.
“Carly,” Jill said at bedtime. “Can you read to me?”
It was the first time Jill had taken advantage of Carly’s offer and Carly couldn’t decide if she wanted to laugh or cry. She would have liked to share the moment with Sawyer but he had gone to take care of Big Harry. “I’d love to read to you.”
Jill climbed into bed, Skippy in the crook of her arm. She moved to the far edge of the bed. “There’s room for you beside me.”
Her heart so full it felt like it might burst, Carly lay down beside the child and drew her close, pleased when Jill snuggled against her. “I’m going to read from the Bible storybook my mama read to me when I was your age.”
Jill nodded. “Okay.”
Opening the book to the first story, Carly read about creation. Finished, she closed the book. “God made a beautiful world,” she said. “And it’s still beautiful.”
“I know. Like the flowers and Skippy.”
“Like you.” Carly planted a kiss on Jill’s forehead.
Jill looked up at her. “And Sawyer?”
Carly’s cheeks grew hot but she hoped Jill wouldn’t notice. “I don’t think he’d like to be called beautiful.”
“Well, he’s handsome.”
“I suppose he is. Now, do you want me to hear your prayers?”
Jill nodded and scampered from under the covers to kneel at her bedside.
Carly knelt beside her. This was so much like it had been with her mother that her throat tightened.
Jill said a child’s prayer and then added her own thoughts. “Help us be able to stay here forever. Help Sawyer and Carly to be in love. Amen.”
The words slammed into Carly and she remained on her knees as Jill climbed back into bed. How was she to tell the child that her prayer must be refused? “Jill, honey, people can live together and be happy without being in love.”
Jill studied her with wide-eyed innocence. “Then you aren’t really married.”
She had a point. “That’s between Sawyer and me.”
“And God.” Jill burrowed deeper under the covers, closed her eyes and gave a satisfied sigh as if she’d spoken the final word on the matter.
If only life could be that simple. “Good night.” Carly placed another kiss on Jill’s forehead and left the room.
Father lay back in his armchair, snoring softly.
Carly tiptoed out to find Sawyer, determined not to let the reasoning of a little girl affect her. She was halfway to the barn when she saw him standing at the fence that enclosed the seeded wheat field and went to join him.
“I finished the oats today,” he said.
“You’ll be glad to be done with farming, I expect.” Most cowboys resisted any sort of farming, even though hay must be cut and feed had to be grown.
“I kind of enjoyed it. There’s something satisfying about turning up the soil and then planting seed and knowing it will supply the winter’s need.”
Carly chuckled. “That sounds like something Father would say.”
He turned to study her, a smile creasing his face. “I consider that a fine compliment.”
“Now then, wouldn’t Father be pleased to hear it.”
They smiled at each other. She had no thought in her head, just the heartfelt enjoyment of the moment that hovered motionlessly between them.
He shifted his gaze to her right and then brought it back to her. “How did you find the cows?”
“They’ve moved west a mile or so. About twenty more calves.”
He took her hand and pulled it through his arm and they walked along the path toward the river. “I am impressed with the look of those calves.”
For a while, they discussed the cows and Father’s breeding program. They reached the trees along the river and he took her hand to lead her down the path, keeping her fingers wrapped in his when they reached the edge of the water. He crossed his arms, still holding her hand, pressing it to his chest. “Tomorrow is Saturday. We should do something special now that the crop and garden are in the ground.”
Her heart picked up speed. “Special? Us?” Who exactly did he mean and what did he have in mind?
“You and me and Jill if she wants to come. I’d include Father but he can’t ride anymore. Poor man.” He paused. She waited. “As I worked, I’ve been eyeing that hill past the barn. Been wondering what’s beyond the top of it.”
She could tell him but she’d far sooner show him. “We could ride out and see.”
His fingers tightened around hers. “Kind of what I thought.”
“Let’s do it.”
“Yes, let’s.”
The next morning, Carly wakened early, an eager smile on her lips. It didn’t make sense to be so excited about a ride across familiar land and yet she was. She sprang from her bed and rushed to the kitchen to make breakfast.
Jill followed to let Skippy outside.
Sawyer came from his room, looking as pleased about the day as Carly felt.
“Jill,” Sawyer said. “We’re going for a ride today to see what’s west of the hill behind the barn.”
“Aye, I can tell you,” Father began.
&nb
sp; “Let them see for themselves,” Carly said.
He nodded, a twinkle in his eyes. “’Twill be for them to discover.”
“Can I take Skippy?”
“Ye can leave the kitten with me,” Father said. “She’ll like that better than being carried on the back of a horse.”
Jill considered her options, looking from one adult to another and then whispering something in Skippy’s ear. She handed Skippy to Father and went to Sawyer’s side. “Okay. I’ll go with you.”
Because of all the baking she’d done over the last week, there was plenty of food to take with them so they could spend the day out if they wanted. She made sandwiches using the roast meat she’d cooked the day before and packed the food in saddlebags. They were soon on their way.
Carly and Sawyer rode side by side. Jill sometimes rode beside them but more often ventured ahead or fell behind and seemed lost in her own thoughts, leaving Carly and Sawyer to visit with each other.
Sawyer asked about who lived in every direction and she told him about the distant neighbors. She told him more about the Marshall family and how Annie and her brothers had all married in the last few months. She told him of adventures she and Annie had experienced.
He listened with a thoughtful look and she grew silent. Then asked, “Do you disapprove of how I’ve conducted myself?”
He chuckled. “Not at all. If you weren’t a daring young lady, you would have never agreed to my suggestion of marriage. No, I was thinking how nice it is that you have friends you share the past with.”
At the lonely note in his voice, she reached out to touch his arm. “You can have that from now on.”
Their gazes found each other and stayed there while their horses moved restlessly.
Her heart flooded with a foreign feeling of longing and warmth as they continued onward.
Knowing the way, she led them round the hillside to another and another, always climbing. The vegetation thickened. Ragged pine and spruce were more abundant. They scrambled up another hill and before them lay a tiny, blue-green lake, not dissimilar to the color of Sawyer’s eyes, Carly thought with a start and couldn’t stop staring at the water.