Page 36 of Montana Groom of Convenience
He bent his head to look at her. “Are you crying?” He didn’t know how to handle a crying woman.
Chapter 8
Carly swiped at her nose with her wet hand. “I’m not crying.” She wouldn’t. She quickly finished the last cup and carried the basin of water outside to toss on Mother’s flower bed which Carly had kept alive and thriving since her mother’s passing. The tulips had blossomed bright yellow and red. The lavender, peonies, and other perennials were growing well. They would blossom when their time came.
She glanced up the hill even though she couldn’t see the tiny graveyard in the dark. A cool breeze shivered across her, and she wrapped her arms about her, the basin clutched to her side. Mother and the baby brothers lay up there.
A tear trickled down her nose. She blinked her eyes clear. She didn’t need a man. She didn’t need love, but she couldn’t help but be grateful her mother wasn’t alive to witness this marriage.
Father had forced her to take this step, and she wouldn’t allow regrets.
She bent to wipe her eyes on her sleeve and tuck determination into her heart.
Before she could return indoors, a shadow fell from the open door. Sawyer waited and watched. At least he didn’t say anything.
They stood a few feet apart. He blocked the light from the kitchen, leaving his face in the dark, though likely his expression would have been inscrutable even if she’d seen it. She could only hope her face was equally shadowed. Neither broke the silence.
Father’s bed creaked as he lay down.
Big Harry snuffled as he readjusted his position.
An owl hooted from the nearby trees.
The scent of silver willows wafted from the river. Spicy as cinnamon.
Still, Carly and Sawyer did not move; they were waiting, assessing. In the stillness, her decision grew firm. Her hopes and expectations adjusted. Some might have said she married in haste and would repent in leisure. Right here and now, with thoughts of Mother close and Sawyer waiting in the doorway, she vowed she would not repent. She would allow no regrets. Although neither of them expected a real marriage, they both had expectations that they’d discussed. Meeting those was enough for her.
She took a step forward. Sawyer moved back to allow her to enter the house.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Everything is fine. Do you have what you need for the night?”
“I’m fine. Thank you.”
His thanks eased her tension. They could both bepolite and gentle with each other, thus making the agreement between them pleasant.
“Good night, then.” She crossed to her room.
“Good night.” Two doors closed quietly.
Carly lit the lamp on her bedside table and turned it down low. She sat on the side of her bed, facing Jill. Should she wake the child to make sure she was okay? She smiled as she thought of the foolishness of doing so, but she’d been instructed to make sure the child didn’t slip into unconsciousness.
Jill’s eyelids fluttered.
“You aren’t sleeping, are you?”
Jill squeezed her eyes tightly.
Carly laughed. “That’s not going to work.”
Jill flipped over, so Carly stared at her back.
“It’s all right. You can take your time deciding what you want from your new life.” Her heart went out to the child who’d lost her parents and then been shuffled from home to home as if no one cared enough to keep her. “I remember something my own mother said. ‘Carly, you can be about as happy as you decide to be. Or you can choose to be unhappy.’ After she died, I needed to remind myself of those words over and over.”
She quickly prepared for the night as she talked, leaving her trousers on top of her boots at the side of the bed. Thinking of her mother triggered so many memories. “Mother used to read me stories at bedtime. And when I got older, she read to me from the Bible.” She pulled her Bible from the nearby drawer. “Now, when I read the Bible, I think of her.”
Jill snorted. “Shouldn’t you think of God?”
