by Linda Ford
*
Sawyer had hoped that the few pleasant hours spent at the waterfall would mark a change in their relationship. He couldn’t explain how he thought that would look but one thing was clear over the passing days. Nothing had changed.
He and Carly worked together amicably enough. They laughed about things. They talked about their pasts. His admiration and affection grew as he came to understand how difficult it had been for her at times as she took over much of the ranch work and tried to be both son and daughter to her father. But if he mentioned that topic, she closed up immediately and the conversation went no further.
They attended church together. Sat together. Heard the same sermons delivered by Hugh. They ate meals around the same table and spent most of every day together or at least in close proximity. And yet the mile-wide canyon had grown deeper.
He had taken to going for an early morning walk while Carly, with Jill’s eager help, prepared breakfast. His steps often took him to the river where he sat on a fallen log to think and pray. Daily he asked God to lead him and guide him.
I don’t want to fail to keep my word. But, Lord, I care about her in a way that frightens me and I don’t know what to do. He smiled as he realized Carly’s faith and her oft-quoted comments from her mother had brought him back to the trust in God he had as a child.
Mostly he decided to let things go along as they were. Safe and uncomplicated.
He returned to the house at Jill’s call, determined to continue along the same route.
Father Morrison said grace. “I’ll be going to town today.”
He got immediate attention from both Carly and Sawyer.
“Who goes to town on a Tuesday unless there’s an urgent need?” Carly asked.
“Aye, my need ’tis urgent.” The man continued to eat as if he hadn’t just made an announcement that made no sense.
Jill looked from one adult to another, the news equally confusing to her.
Carly stared at her father, then shifted her gaze to Sawyer. Would he ever meet those brown eyes without his heart giving an extra-hard beat?
“You know anything about this?” she asked.
“I’m unaware of any pressing need to go to town.”
Father Morrison made a deep-throated sound. “Aye, and is that not the trouble with ye both? You are so unaware.”
Sawyer studied the older man. “What are you saying?”
Father Morrison cleaned his plate, wiped it with his piece of bread and sucked back more coffee, keeping his curious audience waiting. “Very well, I might as well tell you I have business to conduct in town. Now, who is going to give me a ride or do I have to take meself?”
“I’ll take you.” Sawyer hoped he’d learn what the old man was up to by taking him.
“I’m going, too.” Carly likely shared the same desire.
“Good. I can go, too. Can I buy a candy stick?” Jill ate the last of her breakfast in two bites.
“Yes,” Sawyer and Carly answered in unison. He guessed Carly was as distracted by this news as he.
The kitchen was clean and the others ready to depart by the time Sawyer drove the wagon to the door and then they were on their way.
Carly sat in the back with Jill while her father sat beside Sawyer. Which made any private conversation between Carly and Sawyer impossible. They’d have to wait until town to speculate what her father was up to.
“I’ll go to the Marshalls’ store,” he announced and climbed slowly down. His steps were slow as he favored his injured leg.
Jill hurried ahead to choose her candy.
Carly and Sawyer followed her father. He went directly to the counter. George Marshall joined him.
“What can I do for you, Robert?”
“I want to post an ad here and place one in the paper. It’s ready. I just need postage.” He handed over a sealed envelope and Mr. Marshall got a stamp, glued it and put it on. Only then, did he open the sheet of paper that held the ad Father wanted to post.
He looked up at Carly and Sawyer. “Did you know about this?”
They shook their heads.
Mr. Marshall handed the paper to them.
Sawyer took it and Carly read it as he did.
For sale. One ranch near Bella Creek, Montana. Good grass. Good cattle. Imported Hereford Bulls. Oats and wheat seeded.
The skin on Sawyer’s face tightened. He’d worried about Carly changing her mind but he’d never considered her father would.
Carly’s cheeks blanched and she stared at the words as if doubting what they said. Then she spun around and strode from the store. He watched through the window as she hurried down the street and out of sight. Where was she going?
What were he and Jill going to do for a home? What about Carly? What was going to happen to her? To them?
Chapter Sixteen
Sawyer 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 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, 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 Sa
wyer?” 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 much care 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 was 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, 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 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. So 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. 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.”
You could change your word. Change your mind. Offer to agree to a new arrangement. But he didn’t. “I was thinking along the same lines.”
“Then I’ll move into your room. Is that agreeable?”
“It is.”
“Good.” He sounded less than enthusiastic, which stung her to the core. It wasn’t as if she was so undesirable. She recalled Bart’s words. Pretty up. Perhaps if she didn’t wear trousers and didn’t ride like a man, he’d see her as a woman.
But she dismissed the id
ea. Seems she couldn’t satisfy the men in her life. Father wanted her to be a son. Bart had wanted her to be a pretty little woman. She didn’t know what Sawyer wanted. She was weary with trying and failing. From now on, she would be who she wanted to be.
If she even knew. All her life, she’d tried to please her father.
And she’d failed. “If only I had been a son.”
He took her hand and gently squeezed it.
“You are who God made you to be and I don’t see that anyone has a right to complain about that. Including you.”
Despite her recent promise to herself to need no man and be who she wanted to be, she clung to the comfort of his words. The truth of them sank deep into her heart where they rooted and blossomed.
“You’re right.” Did he think she was fine as she was? “My mother used to quote a verse. ‘I will praise thee, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Marvelous are Thy works, and that my soul knoweth right well.’ She said the most marvelous of His words is mankind.” Carly smiled as she recalled how her mother had hugged her and said Carly was the most marvelous of God’s works.
What did it matter how her father viewed her? And yet it did.
Even more, it mattered how Sawyer viewed her. She wanted to be more than part of a contract.
She stared at her mother’s headstone and brought her thoughts back to her father’s latest trick. No longer would she be controlled by his opinion. But she cared about keeping the ranch and her home. She’d do what she must to achieve that.
Feeling had returned to her legs and she got to her feet and reached down to offer a hand to Sawyer. “Let’s go do it.”
They called Jill to join them as they returned to the house.
Father had retired to his big chair, his head tipped back as he slept. How could he sleep so easily after such a despicable deed?
Ignoring him, they told Jill she and Sawyer were changing rooms.
“I like sleeping with Carly.”
Carly hugged the child. “I like sharing a room with you, too, but I’m married to Sawyer.”
Jill’s mouth formed an O. “You’re gonna sleep with him?”
Father jerked awake in time to hear Jill’s words. “About time,” he muttered.