Page 24 of Montana Groom of Convenience
“I suppose you’re entitled to your opinion, but it’s best you keep it to yourself.” She half turned away. “How you deal with Jill is your problem.”
He allowed one eyebrow to flick. “Dealing with Jill has been a problem.”
Carly nodded. “I gathered that. So why bother her about something that truly doesn’t matter?” She swiped a hand at her trousers. “Does anyone really think wearing these makes me less of a woman, less moral?”
He let his gaze go up and down her length as if looking for clues and then shook his head. “I don’t suppose it does.”
Carly’s cheeks stained pink. “Well, then. That’s settled.” She pushed past him and went to the house. “Best I get a bed made up for you.”
He followed at a safe distance, not knowing if she was given to words or actions when she was upset, and she was clearly upset.
Jill trailed along after them, her eyes wide and, if he wasn’t mistaken, full of interest. Having her care about something should please him, but it didn’t. Not if her only interest was in seeing others in conflict.
They single-filed into the room where he was to sleep. A cot with a bare mattress stood on one side of the room. Piles of old newspapers nested against one wall.
“What’s a person to do with old papers?” she asked. “Father?” She raised her voice. “Can we burn the papers?”
“Ack. No. I haven’t finished reading them.”
“Nor will you ever.” She stared at the piles.
“Shove them under the bed.” He waited for her response.
“Good idea.” Seems her good humor had returned, and she grabbed an armload and stuffed it under the cot.
He did the same.
She hurried to get another load. So did he. He stuffed from one end, she from the other until their piles jammed against each other with a thud that made her laugh. “There won’t even be room for dust bunniesin there.”
Jill watched every move as Sawyer swept the room, and Carly made the bed and spread a crazy quilt on top. “My mother and I made this one winter. Mother had been expecting another baby and hoped if she took it easy, this baby would live, so she’d spent much of her day sitting with her feet up.”
Carly patted the quilt once, then stood back to look around. “You need a cupboard of some sort.”
“Surprised there wasn’t one or several in this room.”
She studied him a moment, decided he was joshing, and laughed. It sent a jolt of pleasure through his heart to know she’d appreciated his little attempt at humor.
“Father keeps all the cupboards in his room so he can guard his stuff.”
Sawyer nodded. He’d noticed how jam-packed the man’s room was. “He likes to keep things.”
She grinned at him, her eyes sparkling with humor. “I guess that’s pretty evident.”
Deep inside Sawyer, something responded. He couldn’t say what it was. Couldn’t name it. Could only think it was frightening and alluring at the same time.
She turned to study the room again. “There are some apple crates in the loft you can use for a cupboard. And you can pretty the room up any way you like.”
“Pretty it up?” He could hardly choke the words out.
“Yeah. You know, with pictures and things.”
“Oh. That.” He hadn’t stayed in one place long enough in the past few years to even have a wall to put things on. Last real room he’d had was with Pa and Judith, and it had never felt quite right.
Now, he was here with a promise to stay until death parted them. Seemed like that might be a very longtime. He expected that would be a good thing for Jill, though he hadn’t expected she’d be wearing trousers. He’d planned to deal with the matter later, but Carly’s words caused him to reconsider. Seems there were enough things in life to deal with. This one didn’t seem all that important. “I might hang a calendar.”
In a few minutes, the floor was clean, the bed made. His room was ready, and he looked around. A small room. Maybe eight by eight but plenty big enough for him.
Jill perched on the edge of the cot. “Where’m I gonna sleep?”
