Page 67 of Montana Groom of Convenience
Up until now, Father had said little. Now, he leaned over the back of the seat. “’Tis time you two took this marriage business seriously.” He waited.
“Yes, Father,” she said meekly, even though she knew there would be no changes.
“Sawyer?”
“Yes, Father.” His tone conveyed the same resignation Carly felt.
She kept her gaze straight ahead, unwilling to take the risk of looking at Sawyer. If he seemed determined that things should continue as they were, she would know sharp, searing disappointment. If he revealed regret, suggesting he would like to change their agreement, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. Things were so confusing.
At home, they unloaded the gifts.
“Where do you want me to put everything?” Sawyer asked.
“Should I even use them?” They were alone, and she could finally confess her uncertainty.
He stood with the quilt in his arms. His eyebrows drew together, the only indication that he didn’t like her question. “What are you saying?”
“I hate fooling everyone.”
“We’re married.” His eyes grew icy. “Unless you have a mind to change that.”
She didn’t address his latter statement but rather continued her train of thought. “Not in the usual sense.”
They studied each other, wary and uncertain.
“That’s our business and not anyone else’s.”
“I suppose that’s true.” But it felt wrong. “I didn’t mean to anger you.”
“You didn’t.” He took the quilt to her room and laid it on the bed, still folded neatly.
He said he wasn’t angry, but something sweet and promising between them was gone. She felt it keenly the next day and the next. If only there were something she could do to bring back that feeling. But she could think of nothing.
Sawyer knew betterthan to let his feelings have their way. Over and over, he’d warned himself not to count on things becoming what he wanted. But at the little party in the churchyard, he’d forgotten all his hard-learned lessons. Forgotten to guard his heart. When he’d kissed her, with her full consent, his heart had burst open.
He’d thought she felt the same.
She didn’t and had firmly reminded him that theirs was not a real marriage.
He wished he could be behind Big Harry, putting seed in the ground. There had been something calming about that work, but the planting was done, so hepassed his time by repairing the fence around the cropland. Though if he had any sense at all, he would spend his days far from the house.
For some reason that he refused to admit, he didn’t want to be away.
He looked up from his task as a rider approached and made his way to the house.
Carly stepped outside. He realized she’d been sticking close to home, too. Though likely not for the same reasons.
He went to her side.
“It’s one of the Marshall cowboys,” she said. “I wonder what he wants.”
The man rode closer. He touched the brim of his hat in greeting as Father Morrison came from the barn to see who had ridden up.
The rider turned in that direction and handed Father a bundle of harnesses. They spoke for several minutes.
“Let’s go see what’s going on.” Carly headed for the barn.
“Thank you,” Father said, and the man rode away. Father held up the harnesses. “When Annie’s father, Bud, heard I was fixing old harnesses, he said there was a pile at his place that he’d like fixed.” He began to turn away, then stopped. “Aye, he brought a message, too. I bought three more Hereford bulls. They’re ready. You two will bring them home.”
