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“Ida and Henry Brown. They had a young son, Hank.”
“The Browns. They passed last spring. Their chimney blocked and they died of fumes.”
Hugh continued to press for more information. “What was your plan when you found them?”
“I thought they would give Jill the sort of home she deserves.”
“And you’d do what?”
“Look for a job. Maybe head to Texas and get on another cattle drive.”
Carly sat up tall and straight. She would not let anyone guess at how this information troubled her. She could live with a man who cared nothing about feelings. Suited her just fine. But a wandering one? How would that meet Father’s requirements? She had no wish to be saddled with an absent husband and a father who believed an able-bodied man was necessary in order for her to keep the ranch.
She knew Annie watched her and guessed at her worry. Again, she smoothed her expression, wanting to hide her feelings from her friends. Soon she’d be as good as Sawyer at revealing nothing.
Perhaps Hugh understood the situation as well for he asked another question. “Once you marry and Carly takes on Jill’s care, what’s to stop you from heading for Texas and leaving her to carry the load on her own?”
“I won’t. I give my word. I keep my word.” A beat of heavy silence met his answer.
Carly knew Annie and Hugh were thinking the same as she. How were they to know if they could trust him?
“A man is only as good as his word.” Sawyer’s voice rang clear.
Carly was convinced. Or perhaps, she admitted, she wanted to believe him so they could proceed with their plan.
Hugh continued. “I can’t marry the two of you without knowing what your religious beliefs are.”
Carly looked at Sawyer. Another question she should have asked.
Not a muscle twitched anywhere on him. Nothing about his expression changed. He was very good at hiding his feelings. If, indeed, he had any. She couldn’t be sure he did at this point.
“I believe in God,” he said when he realized Hugh would not go on without an answer.
Hugh gave a mirthless laugh. “Perhaps you could tell me what you believe about God. Who is He to you?”
* * *
The preacher’s question snaked through Sawyer. He had long ago stopped thinking about God. He couldn’t say when it had happened. “My mama taught me that God loves me.” A rush of long-forgotten memories swept over him. Mama reading the Bible and praying. She’d loved God and yet God had let her and Johnny perish in the fire. How could he trust a God like that?
“How would you describe your relationship to God?” the preacher asked.
Sawyer understood the man on the other side of the desk was reluctant to marry Carly Morrison to a stranger and would leap on any reason to refuse. This would be the reason if Sawyer let it be.
He couldn’t lie, not even to gain the preacher’s approval. As he said, a man was only as good as his word and once that was gone, so was honor and self-respect. It was about all he had left that mattered to him. And now the responsibility of his little sister.
“I believe in Jesus Christ, God’s only Son, our Lord, who was crucified, died and was buried. He descended to the dead. On the third day, he rose again.” The words rolled off his tongue as he said them from memory. But when had they been committed to his memory? Who had taught him those words? The answer was simple. His mama had taught them to him long ago and they had lain dormant in his brain until he needed to recall them. Thank you, Mama.
“Are you a believer?” the preacher asked.
The preacher hadn’t been specific about what Sawyer believed in. He believed in lots of things. Doing a job to the best of his ability. Never quitting until the task was done. Being kind to children, women and animals. Keeping one’s word. And of course, a God who ruled the world. “Yes.”
Preacher Arness dropped his hand to the desktop. “I’m still not convinced this is the right thing to do.” He pondered in silence a moment, then brightened. “Sawyer, perhaps there are things you want to know about Carly before you commit yourself to spending the rest of your life with her.”
He knew marriage was forever but to hear it in those terms—the rest of your life—gave him pause. Between them, Jill swung her legs. Her hands moved restlessly. He knew the signs. His little sister had about reached the end of sitting still and that could lead to all sorts of unwanted events.
Just then, the door leading to the living quarters creaked open and a small boy peeked through the opening. “Mama, I finished the picture.” The lad looked about the room. “Hi, Auntie Carly.”
“Hi, Evan.” Carly turned her gaze to Sawyer. “This is Annie and Hugh’s son. Why not let Jill play with him while we finish up here?” She had no idea what she suggested. She couldn’t begin to know what disasters Jill was capable of.
But Jill had already gotten to her feet and pushed past Sawyer. He caught her arm and stopped her. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Jill favored him with a scowl fit to curdle his stomach.
“Evan would like that, wouldn’t you?” Mrs. Arness said. “We can leave the door open so we can see them.”
Jill squirmed from Sawyer’s grasp and followed the woman into the other room.
The two children sat in plain view with an assortment of toy animals between them. A small dog flopped down beside them and Jill began to pet it. The preacher’s wife returned to sit by her husband.
Sawyer tried to relax but it was impossible. Every muscle in his body tensed, ready to react to whatever might occur.
“Now back to the business at hand,” the preacher said. “You were wondering about Carly.”
He wasn’t but Sawyer let the assumption go unchallenged.
“I don’t know what she’s told you so I’ll provide a few details. Carly is nineteen years old.”
Sawyer nodded. He would have guessed her older than that but her age made no difference to him. At least she wasn’t forty.
The preacher went on, “She’s a believer. She lives on a small ranch four miles southeast of town along with her father. Mr. Morrison was injured in a wagon accident a few weeks ago. Doc says his leg will never mend properly. Carly’s been doing most of the work around the place since even before her father’s accident but he has never let her handle their big Clydesdale.”
“He’s too much for a wee lassie like you.”
Sawyer knew by the strong brogue with which Carly said the words that she quoted her father.
Preacher Hugh leaned back. “There’s lots more to know about her. And I know there’s lots more to know about you. Why not spend some time learning about each other and come back in a few months to get married?”
“I don’t have a few months. I don’t need to know more.” Carly’s opinion was clear.
“I see no reason to delay.” The sooner Sawyer got Jill settled into a permanent home, the better he’d like it.
Carly planted her fists on her knees. “Nor do I.”
“You’ll need your father’s permission.”
Sawyer knew the preacher was stalling.
Carly bolted to her feet. “He can’t ride but I’ll go ask him.”
The preacher and his wife exchanged looks and grinned. Hugh got to his feet. “I think I better be the one to talk to him.” He grabbed his hat and headed for the door. “Annie will serve you tea.”
“Wait,” Carly said. “At least let me write him a note.” She grabbed paper and pencil and hurriedly wrote down some words. She folded the paper and handed it to Hugh.
Sawyer didn’t fancy the idea of spending the afternoon in the company of two women. “Can’t you just marry us and be done with it?” He congratulated himself at keeping any annoyance from his voice. No need for any of them to guess that he was finding this all rather unsettling.
“An hour for some serious second thought won’t hurt.” And with that, the door closed behind the preacher.
Carly huffed. “I don’t need any serious second thought.” She grinned at Sawyer. “Father will agree once he’s read my note.”
Sawyer couldn’t imagine what she’d written that made her so certain. The women left the room. He had little choice but to follow them, though he did so reluctantly. He paused by the two children. Jill ignored him and ran to the kitchen after Evan who followed his mama.
Every carefully honed instinct told Sawyer he should turn left, exit through the door and not look back until he was fifty miles down the road.
“Would you children like some cookies and milk?” Mrs. Arness asked.
“Yes, please,” her little boy said.
“Me, too.” Jill’s tone was almost demanding.
When he last saw his little sister, she was well mannered and full of laughter. He wanted to see that child return to replace the demanding, unruly one she’d become. He recognized all the signs of someone turning her back to the world, to kindness and love. He would do everything he could to reverse that process.
But as he turned right and joined the others in the kitchen, he couldn’t decide whether or not he wished Mr. Morrison would refuse to grant permission for a marriage between Sawyer and Carly.
Chapter Three (#u492ee97d-4ea8-58dc-936e-65ebc7395a9e)
Carly and Annie normally had no difficulty carrying on a conversation but with Sawyer at the same table, suddenly Carly could think of nothing to say. She felt Annie’s glance on her and looked up.
Annie tipped her head toward Sawyer. Talk to him, she mouthed.
Carly understood she had to do so if only to prove to her friend...and herself...that it would not be uncomfortable sharing her table with a stranger. Of course, Father would be there. But he could be dour at times.
She’d be sharing her table. Her house. Her ranch. Her life.
Her throat tightened so she couldn’t speak. Thankfully, Annie set a cup of tea before each of them just then and Carly sucked back a mouthful of the hot liquid.
Annie took pity on her and spoke to Sawyer. “Where are you and Jill from?”
“We’ve come from Libby, Kansas.”
“My, that is a long ride for a little girl.”
“I suppose so.” Sawyer’s tone communicated nothing.
Carly couldn’t tell if he was surprised at the idea or if he had already considered it or if, indeed, it mattered not at all to him. If she had to guess, she’d go with the last thought simply because he revealed no emotion.
Annie turned to Jill. “Did you enjoy the trip?”
Jill bumped her glass of milk and the contents splashed across the table.
Carly jumped up. “I’ll get it.” She grabbed the dishrag and mopped up the liquid.
“It’s okay. Accidents happen,” Annie said.
Carly studied Jill. Surely she was mistaken in thinking the accident had been deliberate.
Jill kept her face downturned. Her shoulders hunched forward.
Carly’s heart went out to the orphaned little girl. Perhaps the bump on her head had put her aim off.
By the time Carly had cleaned up the spilled milk, the children had finished their cookies.
“Mama, can we go outside?” Evan asked.
“Yes, of course. Stay in the backyard. And take Happy with you.”
The pup ran for the door and barked. The children let him out and followed. Their voices, raised in play, reached those around the table.
“I apologize for the spilled milk,” Sawyer said.
“No need. She’s just a child.”
Something flicked through his eyes before that bottomless empty pit opened up again and swallowed every hint of feeling but it was enough to make Carly wonder if he had a secret concerning Jill.
Now she was getting fanciful. Jill was an eight-year-old. But she did not look at Annie for fear her friend would see a hint of Carly’s worries. This time for serious second thought allowed for far too much second-guessing. The reasons for marrying Sawyer were just as valid now as they had been an hour earlier.
She took a cookie from the plate in the middle of the table and passed the plate to Sawyer. He also took a cookie and bit into it.
“These are good.” He turned to Carly. “You can cook, can’t you?”
Carly caught Annie’s eyes, silently signaling her not to reveal anything, then she turned to Sawyer and gave him her best innocent look. “Why? Can’t you?”
He held her gaze, allowing her to see nothing. She did her best to do the same.
“What I do best is open a can of beans with my pocketknife. Peaches, too. I can stir up a batch of biscuits if I have to but I’ll be the first to admit they aren’t very good.”
“Might be as good as anything I make.” For all you know.
He continued to look at her and she kept her expression bland.
Annie chuckled. “I can assure you, you won’t starve to death.”
“I could say the same about my own cooking.”
Carly laughed at the wry note in his voice. Good to know he could express some feeling, though food might be the only reason he did so. “What more can you ask?”
He swirled the contents of his tea cup round and round, stared at them and gave a little sigh. “I guess it’s too much to hope for crispy fried chicken, sweet berry pie and melt-in-your-mouth biscuits.”
Carly decided she’d let him wonder about her cooking ability until he got a chance to see for himself. “I don’t recall cooking being part of our agreement. You going to start adding in things now?”
