Free The Cowboy Who Caught Her Eye by Lauri Robinson Page A

stepped back, ready to flee, but Carter reached out, took her hand with his free one. “Show me the weeds, Molly, and I’ll dig them up for you.”
    His words held double meaning. Even with all the turmoil erupting inside, Molly comprehended that, and a tiny little part of her—she had to wonder if it was the baby—asked her to give in to him. To let Carter help. Not necessarily her, and she certainly wouldn’t tell him about the baby or about what she’d done, but he had made things easier on Karleen and even Ivy. And on her as well. She’d never have gotten the fence fixed, or the roof, or a dozen other things, including increasing sales. She couldn’t help but wonder how he’d react when the truth came out.
    Not that she was hoping he’d still be here when the baby was born, but he might be when her condition was revealed. It was bound to happen soon. At the rate the baby was growing, extra-large dresses wouldn’t hide her belly much longer. He’d already been protective of her sister and ward. She’d witnessed it when seedy-looking characters—train passengers or those traveling through—entered the store, and Carter always insisted upon waiting on them.
    The fluttering in her belly happened again, as it had more and more lately, and she couldn’t help but wish her baby would someday know someone like Carter. A real man. Like her father had been.
    “Is this a weed?” Carter asked, still holding her hand, but kicking at a tiny plant with the toe of one boot.
    Molly swallowed, inwardly toying with the thought that she wished he’d protect her, too, as he did her sisters. It had been a long time since she’d had someone to share her burdens with, and secretly she wanted to accept what he was offering, even if she truly didn’t need help hoeing. She tried to reroute her thoughts, tell herself Carter didn’t belong here. But he was here, and she couldn’t deny how comforting that was.
    “This one, Molly,” he said, “is it a weed?”
    Tired of fighting in so many ways, Molly nodded. “Yes, that’s a weed.”
    “Then I’ll get rid of it for you.” His gaze locked on hers as he asked, “All right?”
    There were so many things she had to combat, maybe she should give in this once. It might conserve her energy for when she really needed it. “Yes, you can get rid of that one.”
    They progressed slowly, with Carter asking which ones were weeds and Molly explaining how they differed from the vegetables that still had some growing to do. It took a couple rows, but soon they were talking about other things. Plants mainly. He told her about the cotton fields he’d seen down South, the apple orchards out west and the fields of wheat in Kansas.
    “You’ve certainly been a lot of places,” she said as they neared the end of the last row. He’d done it again, lessened her anxieties, and for once, Molly didn’t fight it, just accepted how nice it was to have a normal conversation about inconsequential topics.
    “Yes, I have.”
    “Why?”
    “Because I wanted to see all my choices before I decided on one.”
    He hadn’t looked up, and she’d wished he had, though she couldn’t have voiced why. “And you chose Montana?” she asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Why? What’s in Montana?”
    They were at the edge of the garden, with no weeds left, not a single one. Carter stood the hoe upright and rested an arm on the handle. “Land,” he said, “a lot like this. The first day I was in town, I rode out there.” He nodded toward the horizon, where the blue of the sky met the green of the earth in one long unending line. “Good land, goes on for as far as a man can see, kind of like the ocean.”
    “And you like that?”
    He picked up the hoe and gestured toward the barn. They started walking at the same time, side by side. “Yes, I do. Don’t you?”
    She let her gaze wander the land for a moment. “Yes, I do.” The wide-open space was much more appealing than the scene on the other side of the