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?”
“No.” One shoulder rose ever so slightly. She wouldn’t have noticed had she not been paying close attention. And likely closer attention than one normally would as she tried to figure out what sort of man she was about to marry. Hopefully he wouldn’t turn out to be the demanding type that wanted meals served by a gal who had prettied herself up.
Annie shook her head and Carly knew she would abide no more teasing.
Carly shrugged, grinning and feeling rather pleased with herself. It had been fun to try to get some sort of reaction from Sawyer.
A cry from outside jolted all three of them to their feet and they rushed for the door.
Annie was the first into the yard and yelled, “Evan!”
Evan stood in the middle of the yard, pointing toward the tree in the back corner.
Three pairs of eyes followed the direction he indicated.
Jill perched in a branch a goodly distance from the ground, holding Happy, who shivered and whined.
Annie rushed to Evan to console him. “Don’t worry. We’ll get him down.” She turned to Sawyer, her meaning plain. She expected him to settle this problem.
Already Sawyer had crossed to the bottom of the tree. “Jill, come down immediately.”
She shook her head.
“Right this instance.”
“Can’t.” She sounded quite certain.
“You must.”
“Can’t,” she yelled.
“Can’t or won’t?”
Carly went to Sawyer’s side. “Can you go up there and get her to hand you the dog?”
“I don’t think the branch will take the weight of both of us.”
He was right. Only one thing to do. She pulled the back of her skirt up and fixed it at her waist forming a pair of loose trousers. Not for the first time and certainly not for the last, she wondered at the impracticality of women’s wear. Thus girded up, she quickly climbed the tree until she came alongside Jill and reached for the dog. “Let me hand him down before he falls.” She managed to pluck the animal from her arms and shinnied down far enough to hand Happy to Sawyer.
“Are you coming?” she called up to Jill.
“No.”
“Do you want us to leave you here?”
“You can’t leave her,” Annie protested. “It isn’t safe.”
“I’ve climbed lots of tree. Never got hurt. Besides, she got up there. She can get down.”
