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 her husband died last summer.”
“Poor child.” She revised her earlier assumption. It sounded very much like the little girl had no one who cared about her despite the brother sitting across from Carly. Jill, he’d said, shifted her gaze to Carly’s and Carly glimpsed the child’s pain and fear before the little one turned away and began dragging the fork over the tabletop, scratching the worn surface.
Dorie, sister to the owner of Miss Daisy’s Eatery, hustled over and gathered up the used dishes and cutlery, taking the fork and leaving only a glass of water in front of Jill.
Carly realized the man opposite her waited her attention.
“I find myself needing a home for Jill.”
Carly wished him well with his search but she didn’t have time to discuss the matter. Nor anyone she cared to suggest who might offer the child a home. She had to find a man willing to marry her.
Though she had her doubts that she’d meet with any man’s approval. She had the ranch to offer as enticement even though she hated to use it that way. Hadn’t she long ago promised herself that in order for a man to marry her, he’d have to care for her...not the ranch?
Bart Connelly had made her see how important that was. He courted her ardently. She’d admired his interest in everything to do with the ranch operation. Her admiration had cooled considerably after he let her see his real reason for the courtship. He told her he intended to have his own ranch some day and he didn’t mean to wait until he’d saved up enough from his wages. That would take far too long. Nope. There was more than one way to get started.
Didn’t take Carly long to realize she was his shortcut. She might have been agreeable to a partnership but then he started to tell her how to do things. Started telling her to run along and get prettied up for him. She finally told him he should run along and get himself prettied up.
After that, she refused his company. Let him find someone else to marry in order to get his ranch.
Seems most men expected she’d change for them, get prettied up and let them order her about. She soon stopped bothering with them. But now, here she was needing to marry someone. Bart was long gone, which was a mercy. She shuddered at the thought of giving in to his demands.
She pushed her chair back. She didn’t have time to listen to the man’s woes. She had to save the ranch. “I’m sorry about your plight but I don’t know what I can do to help.”
“You can marry me.”
She sat down with a thud and opened her mouth but not a word came out. She stared. Blinked. Blinked again. Closed her eyes and told herself she was in a bad dream but when she opened her eyes, the man still sat there, watching, waiting.
She found her voice, though it sounded a bit rusty. “Marry you? You’re a stranger. I don’t even know your name. I don’t know anything about you.”
“Name’s Sawyer Gallagher. I’m twenty-three. Been on my own since I was fourteen. Been working on ranches or riding herd on a trail ride. That’s about it.”
That was it? Who was he? What sort of life did he plan to live?
She studied him with narrowed eyes. Dirty blond hair. Blue-green eyes. Three days’ growth of dusty beard. A trail-soiled faded blue shirt. A look that shouted don’t mess with me. A man used to being in charge.
She almost shivered. No. She could not see herself married to this man.
Except to save the ranch?
He leaned forward, his eyes challenging and fierce enough to make her want to sit back and put more distance between them. “You need a husband so you can keep your ranch. I need a home for Jill.” He looked down as he continued, not allowing her to read his expression. “I know what it’s like to grow up homeless and drifting. It’s how me and my pa were until he married Judith and they had little Jill.” He paused.
When he resumed speaking, his voice had deepened and his words came slowly as if he found them difficult to say them. “I learned not to care about people or places ’cause I knew they weren’t going to last. It killed something inside me so that I don’t feel things anymore.” He lifted his head and she sat back at the way his eyes blazed. “I don’t want Jill to end up like me.” The fire in his gaze died and she could have been looking into a bottomless pit for all she saw.
She swallowed hard. Not often a man made her feel small and vulnerable but something about this man did. He wasn’t big. Annie’s brothers were far bigger. But his soulless eyes unnerved her.
He went on, not hurrying, yet she felt his intensity. “I want nothing but a permanent home for my sister. No emotional ties. No expectations except for me to do the ranch work and you to teach Jill how to feel safe.”
Their glances went to the child. She picked her nose and wiped it on her already soiled dress. “I don’t suppose learning a few manners would hurt either.”
“No strings attached?” Why was she even considering this? One reason and one only...to keep the ranch. She looked again at the little girl. Maybe two reasons. The second, to give a child a home where she would be safe and secure.
“No strings.” His voice was flat but firm.
“You’d have your own bedroom?” Her cheeks burned at the question but she had to be sure they were clear on this matter. She did not want to be controlled by a man indoors or out.
“Either that or I’ll sleep in the barn.”
