Page 2 of Montana Groom of Convenience
“There must be someone.” Miss Morrison brightened. “I just have to find him.”
Her friend left, shaking her head.
Sawyer shifted so he could see the woman still sitting at the table. Youngish, maybe twenty, though that was but a guess. He wasn’t able to judge a woman’s age. She was pretty enough from what he could see. He’d been mildly surprised to see her brown eyes...unusual in someone with such fair hair. She was a little on the small side. He supposed, like most places in the west, there were a dozen men to every woman. So why wasn’t she already married? Instead, she was desperately looking for a husband.
He was desperately seeking a home for Jill.
His mind clicked like a tightly wound watch.
Jill burped loudly. and he made up his mind.
“Jill, stay here while I speak to that lady.” Taking her compliance for granted, though compliance and cooperation had been sadly lacking from the beginning of this journey, he pushed his chair back and rose to his feet.
Carly plantedher elbows on the table and buried her face in her palms. Father could be so unreasonable. Two weeks to find a husband! That was impossible. Besides, she didn’t want a husband. But she did want the ranch. She’d been mostly running it for severalyears now, though Father had steadfastly refused to let her handle Big Harry, insisting the plow horse was too much animal for a bitty thing like her.
The chair across the table scraped on the floor, and someone sat down. Carly jerked up, expecting Annie had returned, perhaps having recalled an unmarried cousin. Instead, she stared at a stranger.
Wasn’t this the man who’d been seated at the next table? She darted a glance out of the corner of her eyes. Yes, the little girl sat alone, watching Carly and the man.
“Excuse me,” Carly said, returning her attention to the stranger. “This is my table.”
He didn’t pay any heed to her hint that he should leave. Didn’t even address her comment. “I couldn’t help but overhear part of your conversation.”
How dare he listen to her painful discussion with Annie? “Didn’t your mother teach you it was rude to eavesdrop?”
He lifted one shoulder dismissively. “She might have if she hadn’t died when I was seven.”
“I spoke out of turn. I’m sorry.” Wasn’t Father always telling her she was far too free with her comments? Given that he wasn’t opposed to speaking his mind, he could hardly expect otherwise.
The man across from her dipped his head in acknowledgment. “It would seem you have a problem.”
She gave no indication that she understood what he meant, her insides burning to think someone had overheard her conversation with Annie.
“I also have a problem.” His gaze went to the little girl.
Carly’s eyes went in the same direction.
The untidy little girl scowled at them, then turned away, swiped her plate with her dirty fingers, and sucked the bacon fat from them. She gave them a look of pure challenge that brought a fleeting smile to Carly’s mouth. It was a look she had honed over the years. For all the good it did her in the end. Father told her he didn’t care how much fire she shot from her eyes, there were certain things he would not let a daughter of his do. Remembering that brought her thoughts back to her quandary.
Carly could see the child might be a problem but didn’t see how it involved her. She didn’t have time to deal with a child. She had to find a husband.
“That’s my little sister, Jill. She’s eight, and her parents are dead.”
“Poor little girl.” Carly studied the child more closely. She had light brown hair that hadn’t seen a brush in days. Brown eyes that challenged everyone and everything they encountered. A trail-dusty brown dress. Scuffed shoes that were swinging back and forth. Her heart went to the child. She must feel very alone. At least she had a brother.
How often Carly wished she had a sibling, preferably a brother or two or more.
The man continued, “I thought to turn her over to her second cousin, but I just learned the cousin and her husband died last summer.”
“Poor child.” She revised her earlier assumption. It sounded very much like the little girl had no one who cared about her despite the brother sitting across from Carly. Jill, he’d said, shifted her gaze to Carly’s and Carly glimpsed the child’s pain and fear before the littleone turned away and began dragging the fork over the tabletop, scratching the worn surface.
Dorie, sister to the owner of Miss Daisy’s Eatery, hustled over and gathered up the used dishes and cutlery, taking the fork and leaving only a glass of water in front of Jill.
Carly realized the man opposite her waited for her attention.
“I find myself needing a home for Jill.”
Carly wished him well with his search, but she didn’t have time to discuss the matter. Nor anyone she cared to suggest who might offer the child a home. She had to find a man willing to marry her.
