Montana Groom Of Convenience. Linda Ford
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angled his head to study the woman who spoke with such feeling. He couldn’t say if she expressed anger or pain. His position gave him a view of the woman’s profile. She leaned toward her friend, strands of straw blond hair drifting about her face. The rest was in a loose braid hanging down her back. She wore a dark blue print dress.
His gaze went downward and he grinned at the sight of a sturdy pair of cowboy boots peeking out from under her skirts. Both the boots and hem of her dress were caked with mud.
He returned his attention to the pair at the table. Her companion was also blonde though much darker. And much neater.
“No! You can’t reason with him?”
“You do realize we’re talking about my father—the most stubborn Scotsman I’ve ever encountered.”
Her friend chuckled. “I dare say he’s the only one you’ve ever encountered.”
The girl shuddered. “Don’t care to meet another.” She leaned closer to her companion. “Do you know what he told me? That I need a man to run the ranch now that he’s been injured. Doc says his leg won’t mend properly. Says he will never be able to use it like he used to. He can’t ride anymore. Can’t walk behind the plow. Can’t drive Big Harry.” With each item on the list, the gal’s voice grew more sorrowful and her shoulders sank.
“I’m sorry to hear that. But, Carly, he’s never allowed you to work with the Clydesdale.”
She sat up straight. “I could.” Her shoulders sank again. “But he forbids me to do so. Says it takes a man.”
Amusement sparkled from the second woman. “So you’re out to find a man?”
Carly, as her friend called her, jerked forward. Her jaw jutted out. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do. I said I would hire someone but Father says only marriage will ensure stability so I need to find someone to marry.” Her gaze circled the room, momentarily rested on Sawyer, lowered to Jill across from him and returned to her companion.
Sawyer’s breath whooshed out. He had the feeling he’d just escaped disaster.
“You’d marry to save the ranch?”
Sawyer shared the speaker’s astonishment.
“Indeed, I would. Too bad your brothers are already married. You don’t happen to have some male, unmarried cousins I haven’t heard of?”
“I can’t believe you’re asking.”
“It’s not like I’m expecting love and romance. I only want a man to sign a piece of paper and pretend to be my husband.”
“Carly Morrison! Dismiss this notion at once. It’s folly. Better to pray God changes your father’s mind.”
“Might as well ask for the mountains to disappear.” Miss Morrison sank back.
“There’s always Billy Cameron.” The woman laughed.
Carly shuddered. “Please, I’m not that desperate. You can smell the man coming a mile away. I’ve been with Father to visit him. The man never washes his dishes. Just lets his dog lick them clean. Yuck.”
“Glad to hear you aren’t that desperate.” Her companion rose. “I must go. I’m going to ask Hugh to pray for you.”
“So long as you both pray I’ll find a husband.” She scowled. “Father has given me two weeks to do so.”
“That doesn’t even give you time to find a mail-order husband.” The friend pulled on her gloves. “I’m sorry but it doesn’t sound very hopeful, does it?”
“There must be someone.” Miss Morrison brightened. “I just have to find him.”
Her friend left, shaking her head.
Sawyer shifted so he could see the woman still sitting at the table. Youngish, maybe twenty though that was but a guess. He wasn’t able to judge a woman’s age. She was pretty enough from what he could see. He’d been mildly surprised to see her brown eyes...unusual in someone with such fair hair. She was a little on the small size. He supposed, like most places in the west, there were a dozen men to every woman. So why wasn’t she already married? Instead, she was desperately looking for a husband.
He was desperately seeking a home for Jill.
His mind clicked like a tightly wound watch.
Jill burped loudly and he made up his mind.
“Jill, stay here while I speak to that lady.” Taking her compliance for granted, though compliance and cooperation had been sadly lacking from the beginning of this journey, he pushed his chair back and rose to his feet.
* * *
Carly planted her elbows on the table and buried her face in her palms. Father could be so unreasonable. Two weeks to find a husband! That was impossible. Besides, she didn’t want a husband. But she did want the ranch. She’d been mostly running it for several years now, though Father had steadfastly refused to let her handle Big Harry, insisting the plow horse was too much animal for a bitty thing like her.
The chair across the table scraped on the floor and someone sat down. Carly jerked up, expecting Annie had returned, perhaps having recalled an unmarried cousin. Instead she stared at a stranger.
Wasn’t this the man who had been seated at the next table? She darted a glance out of the corner of her eyes. Yes, the little girl sat alone, watching Carly and the man.
“Excuse me,” Carly said, returning her attention to the stranger. “This is my table.”
He didn’t pay any heed to her hint that he should leave. Didn’t even address her comment. “I couldn’t help but overhear part of your conversation.”
How dare he listen to her painful discussion with Annie? “Didn’t your mother teach you it was rude to eavesdrop?”
He lifted one shoulder dismissively. “She might have if she hadn’t died when I was seven.”
“I spoke out of turn. I’m sorry.” Wasn’t Father always telling her she was far too free with her comments? Given that he wasn’t opposed to speaking his mind, he could hardly expect otherwise.
The man across from her dipped his head in acknowledgment. “It would seem you have a problem.”
She gave no indication that she understood what he meant, her insides burning to think someone had overheard her conversation with Annie.
“I also have a problem.” His gaze went to the little girl.
Carly’s eyes went the same direction.
The untidy little girl scowled at them, then turned away, swiped her plate with her dirty fingers and sucked the bacon fat from them. She gave them a look of pure challenge that brought a fleeting smile to Carly’s mouth. It was a look she herself had honed over the years. For all the good it did her in the end. Father told her he didn’t care how much fire she shot from her eyes, there were certain things he would not let a daughter of his do. Remembering that brought her thoughts back to her quandary.
Carly could see the child might be a problem but didn’t see how it involved her. She didn’t have time to deal with a child. She had to find a husband.
“That’s my little sister, Jill. She’s eight and her parents are dead.”
“Poor little girl.” Carly studied the child more closely. She had light brown hair that hadn’t seen a brush in days. Brown eyes that challenged everyone and everything they encountered. A trail-dusty brown dress. Scuffed shoes that were swinging back and forth. Her heart went to the child. She must feel very alone. At least she had a brother.
How often Carly wished she had a sibling, preferably a brother or two or more.
The man continued, “I thought to turn her over to her second cousin but I just learned the cousin and