Page 53 of Montana Groom of Convenience
Her cheeks grew warm. Let them think what they wanted. But did Sawyer have to give the impression that they’d enjoyed a week of conjugal bliss?
“Relax,” he murmured and patted the cushion where he lounged on one arm.
She glanced around. All the other couples had finished eating and lingered over the coffee Annie served. Each pair leaned on a large cushion. Happily married couples eager to share the same intimate space.
Sawyer patted the cushion again.
She stared at the spot, studied his elbow, which he’d bent to support his head. Slowly, wishing she could resist but acknowledging she couldn’t, she lifted her gaze along his arm, taking in every detail. The crease of his shirtsleeve where his elbow bent, the strain of the material across his biceps, the darkness of the skin on his hands. And the blinding light from his eyes.
What was he thinking?
Surely not what she wished.
She blinked. She wished for nothing. She had whatshe wanted. A pretend marriage that protected the ranch.
He patted the cushion again, his eyes steady and the tiniest bit challenging.
She shook her head and fanned her skirt out before her.
“Chicken,” he murmured so softly she knew no one else would hear.
She wasn’t going to let him tease her into doing something she didn’t want to. Because she wanted it so badly, it frightened her.
Something tickled her neck and she swatted at what she thought was a spider.
Sawyer chuckled—a sound so sweet it rivaled the meadowlark on the nearby stump.
She grabbed the blade of grass he’d tickled her with and tossed it aside. Would this picnic never end? If it didn’t soon, she’d end up doing something she’d regret, though at the moment, she couldn’t say if she meant she’d give in to her urge to plant her elbow close to his and share a special moment.
Or if she meant she’d regret not doing it.
Determined to keep things between them as they had been and as they’d agreed they would be, she turned her attention to the conversation around them.
“We’re planning for the spring roundup,” Dawson said.
That got Carly’s attention. Their cattle, for the most part, were on their land, but she enjoyed the roundup even though Father absolutely forbade her to follow the crew. No, she had to wait until the animals were gathered and then join in identifying and branding the calves.
Sawyer sat up, pressing to her side, as he listened to the planning for the spring gathering.
Carly felt his interest and knew he’d want to go with the men. She refused to acknowledge that thinking of him being gone left her empty inside.
A scream rent the air, sending tension across Carly’s neck.
The parents were on their feet in seconds. The children, except for Kate and Conner’s baby, were playing nearby. All of them were used to playing outdoors, and fourteen-year-old Beth, Logan and Sadie’s oldest, was supervising.
Beth rushed toward the adults. “Jill’s hurt. Come quick.”
Sawyer and Carly bolted to their feet and raced after the girl. They ran down the slope toward the creek. Carly saw Jill crumpled on the gravel and let out a cry.
Sawyer would have outdistanced her, but fear gave her wings, and she reached Jill at the same time as Sawyer. They both wrapped their arms around her and helped her sit up.
“Honey, what’s wrong? Where are you hurt?”
Jill sobbed, unable to answer. She lifted her arm for them to see a deep gash above her elbow bled. The children had removed shoes and stockings to play in the water. Blood stained the water. The sole of Jill’s foot bled.
“What happened?” Sawyer demanded.
Did he realize how thick his voice had become? He cared far more than he’d ever admitted.
