Page 88 of Montana Groom of Convenience
“Sawyer?” No response. Perhaps he was dreaming. She flipped to her side, close enough to the edge of the bed she could see him. In the thick darkness, she could barely make out his form. One of his arms hit the bed and caused her to jump. “Sawyer?” she said again in a hoarse whisper.
He muttered something. She couldn’t make it out, but his tone sounded troubled, afraid even. From a nightmare?
She patted his shoulder. “Sawyer, wake up.”
He thrashed about.
She shook him and spoke louder. “Sawyer, wake up.”
He startled and drew in a shuddering breath. “I was dreaming.”
“I thought so.”
A shiver shook his body. “It was awful. I dreamed I was trying to rescue Johnny. I fought my way through flames only to discover he’d moved, and I had to go through more flames.”
She patted his shoulder. “It was just a dream. It meant nothing. Johnny is safe with your mama. You don’t have to look for him in a fire. Now go back to sleep.”
His hand cupped hers, claimed it. “Thank you.”
She didn’t ask for what because she preferred to fill in the blanks herself. He was grateful she was close by, grateful she’d wakened him, and grateful even for her words of comfort.
He held her hand until he fell back asleep, and his fingers relaxed. Only then did she pull her arm back to the bed and under the covers to warm it.
As usual, he was gone the next morning when she slipped from the bed. In a state half asleep, half awake, she’d been aware of him rising, pulling on his clothes, and tiptoeing away. She knew he paused before he opened the door and tried but failed to force her eyes open to see why. He whispered something, then stepped from the room. She tried to make out what he had said, but again failed.
Later, she pushed aside the last of her sleep and dressed. She paused to make her bed and put the pillow and quilt back in place, leaving no evidence that Sawyer slept on the floor. Father would object if he knew. Perhaps continue with his threat to sell the ranch.
When he’d first forced her into this position, she’d resented his manipulation, but now she thanked him for it. She enjoyed having Sawyer close and being able to talk to him in the intimacy of the bedroom.
She didn’t realize she smiled as she made breakfast until Father spoke.
“Looks to me like you two are enjoying each other. Aye?”
“You could say so.” She knew they meant different things, but her words were true.
Over breakfast, Father said. “There’s rain comin’. ’Tis a good day to burn that dry grass along the trail.” The track leading from the main road to the house had to be burned off every year to eliminate a fire hazard. They would have normally done it soon after the snow melted, but this year, there had been Father’s injuries and her marriage to distract them from the task.
He continued. “There isn’t much danger with everything so green. All the same, I dinnae like to take chances, so ye’ll all come help keep an eye on things.”
“Me, too?” Jill seemed to think it an exciting prospect.
The skin on Sawyer’s face grew taut, but before he could protest, Father spoke.
“Aye, I think you better stay in the house and keep little Skippy with you so she doesn’t get in the way.”
As soon as the kitchen had been cleaned up, and meat set to stew, Carly went out to join Father and Sawyer. She’d told Jill she could watch from the window but to keep the door closed so Skippy wouldn’t get out.
Father saw her approach them. “Aye, and then let’s get at it.” He held a torch of twigs he had bundledtogether. He lit it and walked along the trail, using it to light the dry grass. Carly followed him, Sawyer behind, both of them armed with damp gunnysacks to put out any little fires that got away from the intended area.
The seedpods of some plant exploded, sending sparks toward the barn. A bit of dry hay caught the sparks, and a flame quickly flared. She stomped it out. Sawyer stomped out another flame near the corrals.
“I don’t like this,” he muttered.
“We do it every spring.”
“I know it’s necessary, but I still don’t like it.”
She rubbed his arm. “I can manage if you want to go back to the house.”
