Page 47 of Montana Groom of Convenience
Sawyer followed Carly to the fenced plots. “Oats here. Wheat there.”
He leaned against the fence post. This was what he’d signed on for, so her brisk attitude didn’t bother him.
The nextmorning,he hurried out to do chores, meeting Carly as she returned to the house with a pail of milk.
“I’ll feed the animals,” he said.
She ground to a halt. “I do the chores.”
“It will take less time if I help.” While you make breakfast. But he kept the latter to himself. “Jill and your father are up. I made coffee, but Jill is looking for something to eat. I told her to stay out of the cupboards and wait.”
She shot a look toward the house. “I fed Tosser already.”
“Tosser?”
She grinned. “The milk cow.”
Her amusement tickled him, and he smiled. Funny how it was getting easier and easier to see the humor in things. “Let me guess. She likes to kick the milk bucket, tossing it up.”
“Nope.”
He looked at her dancing eyes, her teasing expression, and forgot every uncertainty, every disagreement between them. Marrying her had been a good idea. He promised himself he would never allow regrets. And if they crept in, he would remember the feeling of this moment. The pleasure of watching her humor. How she quickly forgot any discord. The way she seemed in tune with Jill’s needs.
And his own?
That wasn’t necessary. His needs were practically nonexistent.
He reminded himself they were talking about a cow. “So why did you name her Tosser?” Why did his tongue feel so floppy? It couldn’t have anything to do with the way she made him smile.
She chuckled. “We bought her from a passing family on their way to the gold fields. They were getting short of funds, so they were willing to part with her. After we got her, we realized they were tired of her shenanigans. She seemed as placid as cream until someone sat beside her to milk her, then she turned, dropped her head, and butted that person off the stool. If cows could laugh, I’m sure she did.”
His grin widened, and laughter rumbled up his throat. “She still toss you off your stool?”
“Nope. Father bribed her with oats. If she tossed him, he took away the oats. Now, so long as she gets her oats, she’s well-behaved.”
His feet grew roots as they shared amusement. His past disappeared in the flash of her smile.
Jill stood in the doorway. “I’m hungry.”
Carly startled. “I better get this milk to the house and think about breakfast. I’ll call when it’s ready.” She hurried away.
He stared after her a moment, then slowly made his way to the barn. As he gave Big Harry an extra ration of oats, he studied the horse. “I wonder why they named you Big Harry. I expect when she saw you, she said, ‘Look at those big hairy feet.’” He chuckled. His second day of marriage, and he was already discovering unexpected joys.
His smile lingered as he took care of the animals, making sure the water trough was full and checking the gates on the pasture where the other horses were corralled.
“Sawyer, breakfast is on.” Carly’s voice sailed across the yard and encircled him like a bit of shining dew.
“She’s a good cook, too,” he said to no one in particular,though Dusty lifted his head to see if Sawyer talked to him. Sawyer jogged across the yard, something more than hunger urging him to hurry. A trickle of concern reminded him how often he had let himself settle into a place only to move until he finally stopped letting himself care. He stepped inside to be greeted with enough pleasant smells to crowd out any thought of warning himself that he should guard his heart.
Like Gladys had said, he was a loner who didn’t know how to be anything but.
This time, he had a marriage contract to ensure he had a permanent home.
Except the marriage wasn’t real. What was to stop either of them from ending it?
Chapter 10
Carly watched from the kitchen window as Sawyer drove Big Harry to the field. She’d watched him do so for three days now and discovered there was something strangely soothing about seeing him plowing in the nearby field as she went about her own work. She’d begun planting the garden, enlisting Jill’s help. At first, the child resisted, but Carly, following her mother’s example, turned it into a game.
