Page 23 of Montana Groom of Convenience
“Found ’em.”
“Were they lost?”
“She said they were rags.” Jill tipped her head toward Carly but did not look at her.
Nor did Sawyer as he tried to think if she’d be offended that Jill had helped herself to some items.
Carly chuckled, and he jerked his head round to look at her.
“You’re welcome to the clothes. They’re too small for me. Of course, you might need your brother’s permission to dress like that.” The challenge in Carly’s eyes sent a twitch down Sawyer’s spine. He had hopes of Jill learning to be a lady like her mother had been.
Jill crossed her arms and scowled at them. “I don’t need nobody’s permission.” She gave Sawyer a hard look. “She wears pants.”
“They’re a lot more comfortable and safer even when I’m working around the ranch.”
“I like ’em.” Jill’s tone dared Sawyer to try to stop her.
He considered his options. How Carly dressed was none of his business. She clearly didn’t heed her father’s opinion, so why would she heed his? Not that he cared if she wore trousers. A grin bubbled below the surface. Truth was, she looked fine in them. But Jill was a different matter. Her parents would not approve.Shouldn’t he teach her the same things they would have if they lived?
“What’d you do with your dress?”
“Threw it out.”
“Jill, we can’t afford to replace clothes.”
Carly edged past the girl into the woodshed. “The dress is right here.” She held up a bundle with fabric that he recognized. “It needs a good scrubbing.” After a second of letting him stare at it, she tossed it into the pile on the bench. “I’ll get that shelf made.” She reached for the board, but he shook his head and carried it in, passing Jill, who continued to give him loads of defiance.
We’ll settle this later, he promised himself. In private.
He lifted the board to where he thought she would want it. “Is here okay?”
“It’s fine.” She grabbed shorter pieces and made shelf brackets, nailing them into place.
He could have driven in the spikes in half the time but wasn’t about to offer to trade places with her. Even he—blind as he was to emotions—understood she didn’t care for offers of help. Perhaps she’d had to fight her father so long to gain her independence that resisting help had become part and parcel of her.
Neither of them talked as they worked. He was used to working in silence and preferred it to useless chatter. But something bothered him, and he had to get it off his chest. “Jill’s mother was a lady.”
She let the hammer hang from her hand and jerked back to give him a hard look. “So was my mother. What are you trying to say?”
One thing about Carly was that he didn’t have to try to guess at her feelings. “Don’t get all offended.”
“Offended? Me?” She swung the hammer in a circle. “Why would you think that?”
Not liking the narrow confines of the shed and the swinging hammer, he eased toward the door. “Do you need more things brought out for the shelf?”
She tossed the hammer to the corner. The one nearest where he stood, though perhaps that had been unintentional. He couldn’t say.
“I don’t know.” She didn’t move and something warned him he shouldn’t either. Not until she finished with her anger. “Are you, by any means, referring to her wearing trousers?”
He was getting good at understanding her thinly veiled warnings and answered cautiously. “There’s people who would consider it inappropriate.”
She closed the distance between them until they were toe to toe. “Sawyer Gallagher, let’s get a few things straight.”
He gave her his best steely-eyed look.
“I long ago decided my comfort and safety were far more important than what people thought.”
He continued his expressionless stare.
