Page 80 of Montana Groom of Convenience
Carly must have heard the confusion and fear in the child’s voice, for she wrapped an arm about her, and her voice softened as she answered. “It wasn’t Sawyer.”
“Good.” It didn’t seem to cross her mind that it might be Carly’s father.
They returned to the ranch in silence. Sawyer stopped at the house to let the others off, though he didn’t care much for leaving Carly to deal with her father alone.
He continued to the barn to take care of the horse and wagon. As he turned to put away the harness, Carly joined him.
“Did you know he was going to do this?” Her words were little bullets looking for a place to explode.
“I’m as surprised as you.” He met her look, saw the anger, but also saw the hurting.
“I thought he would have discussed this with you.”
“No. Why would he? That man does what he wants.”
She nodded. “Is there any point in talking to him about it?” Defeat deadened her voice.
“I think, at the very least, we deserve an explanation.” He pulled her arm through his. At first, she stiffened, and he thought she might pull away and stomp off. “Come on. Let’s confront the tiger.”
She gave a half-amused, half-bitter laugh and allowed him to draw her back to the house and her father.
Back at the house, he asked Jill to take her kitten outside and play. “I’ll let you know when you can come back.”
Cradling the cat in her arms as she went to the door, she said, “I hope you work things out the right way.”
He wasn’t sure what she meant. But he hoped so, too.
Mr. Morrison sat at the table, looking through the mail he’d brought home. He didn’t even bother to glance up, though he most certainly had heard them enter and had to be aware of the tension in the air.
“Sir, can we talk?”
Mr. Morrison shoved aside the mail and planted his fists on the tabletop. Not a good sign in Sawyer’s opinion. “Say what you have to say.”
Carly and Sawyer sat side by side across from the older man. She perched on the front of her chair and looked mad enough to chew the cup her father held, so Sawyer spoke before her anger could erupt.
“We’d like to know why you did this.” He congratulated himself on keeping his tone even while all the time his insides twisted and turned.
“Father, you said if I married, you wouldn’t sell the ranch. I never thought you’d be one not to keep your word.”
“Aye, and what kind of marriage is it when he sleeps in the storeroom? ’Tis not a marriage at all, methinks.”
Sawyer heard her little gasp. “You wouldn’t do this to me if I were a son,” she said.
“But you’re not.”
Knowing how much those words would hurt, Sawyer reached for her hand, but she jerked to her feet, tipping the chair. He grabbed it to steady it.
“I’m tired of trying to be the son you always wanted.” She fled out the door.
Sawyer studied the man across the table from him. “She is better to you than most sons would be.”
“’Tis true, but she needs a man.”
“She has a man. Me.”
“What’s to keep you if you don’t have a real marriage? If you don’t love her? My daughter deserves to be loved.”
“The details of our marriage are not your business.” He pushed away from the table and headed for the door, his fists curled in anger.
