Cowboy On Call
Cowboy On Call
Leigh Riker
He needs to stop running from his mistakes.Cowboy or doctor? Sawyer McCord has been wrestling with that question since he came home to the Circle H after fleeing his remote clinic in the Himalayas. A tragedy there has him doubting his medical skills, but his reception on the ranch has been chilly at best. Sawyer can't blame his family—or Olivia Wilson, his brother's ex—for their anger. So why does Olivia's opinion of him suddenly matter so much? Sawyer has unfinished business here and at his clinic. If he's ever going to redeem himself, he needs to start by making amends to the one woman who might never forgive him.
He needs to stop running from his mistakes.
Cowboy or doctor? Sawyer McCord has been wrestling with that question since he came home to the Circle H after fleeing his remote clinic in the Himalayas. A tragedy there has him doubting his medical skills, but his reception on the ranch has been chilly at best. Sawyer can’t blame his family—or Olivia Wilson, his brother’s ex—for their anger. So why does Olivia’s opinion of him suddenly matter so much? Sawyer has unfinished business here and at his clinic. If he’s ever going to redeem himself, he needs to start by making amends to the one woman who might never forgive him.
“Did you see, Mom? We almost cantered.”
Sawyer sent Olivia a look as he led Hero out of the corral, Nick still grinning.
“Not quite,” Sawyer assured her. “Hero’s got good gaits, but I doubt I could keep up with him at that pace.”
He wasn’t even breathing hard, and Olivia looked away from his shirt, which was now plastered to his shoulders, chest and flat abdomen. He was saving face for Nick so he wouldn’t feel as if he were on some pony ride at a summer fair. Of course he wanted to go fast. That was her son. Years ago, she had to admit, that would have been her, too, flying like the wind on Jasmine.
And that was, always, like Sawyer. His impulsiveness had cost Olivia her favorite horse. She found it hard to forget that when she was here at the Circle H... Yet watching him and Nick with the lovely gray gelding had made her heart ache in a good way. Here was Sawyer McCord, a cowboy again, though he’d turned his back on the ranch years ago.
Though he would probably leave again once more.
Dear Reader (#u20209f12-4c6e-5617-aabb-2a854e3fc199),
I’m so happy to bring you Cowboy on Call, this third book in my Kansas Cowboys series. Sawyer McCord is the bad boy of this group—I do love bad boys!—and he truly needs to find redemption.
In his defense, Sawyer hasn’t had an easy time of it. After losing his parents when he was eight, he and his twin brother, Logan (from book one, The Reluctant Rancher), were raised by their grandfather, Sam. But after Sam and Sawyer had a falling-out, Sawyer left home. Long estranged from his brother, too, he has a lot to make up for. And not only with his family.
Sawyer is also carrying a heavy load of guilt over another tragedy that happened far away. But coming home again can’t fix that, either. He’s in bad shape as a doctor and as a man, and Sawyer certainly doesn’t count on becoming a cowboy again—or meeting up with Olivia Wilson, the one true love of his life.
Divorced from Sawyer’s brother, Olivia is determined to be the best single mom she can be for their son, and the last thing she needs is to fall for Sawyer. He won’t stay long—just like before—and besides, they have a sad history.
I had a great time getting Sawyer and Olivia together, though it takes an unruly black colt to help get the job done. Ride ’em, cowboy!
I hope you enjoy Cowboy on Call. If you missed book one, The Reluctant Rancher, and/or Last Chance Cowboy, book two, they’re also available. And please visit my website, leighriker.com (http://www.leighriker.com), where you can also sign up for my newsletter.
As always, happy reading!
Leigh
Cowboy on Call
Leigh Riker
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
LEIGH RIKER, like so many dedicated readers, grew up with her nose in a book. This award-winning, USA TODAY bestselling author still can’t imagine a better way to spend her time than to curl up with a good romance novel—unless it’s to write one! She’s a member of the Authors Guild, Novelists, Inc., and Romance Writers of America. When not writing, she’s either out in the garden, indoors watching movies funny and sad, or traveling (for research purposes, of course). With added “help” from her mischievous cat, Daisy, she’s now working on a new novel. She loves to hear from readers. You can find Leigh on her website, leighriker.com (http://www.leighriker.com), on Facebook at leighrikerauthor (https://www.facebook.com/LeighRikerAuthor) and on Twitter, @lbrwriter (https://twitter.com/lbrwriter).
For Don
Still my favorite cowboy...happily-ever-after.
Contents
Cover (#u5ee707a4-0f9b-5444-8df7-2562adf54161)
Back Cover Text (#u2d864a64-fa1c-5710-9e2f-5620c9645d6b)
Introduction (#ufb9dc82e-2384-5ae6-b09e-1f588f6dda8c)
Dear Reader (#u48c5b954-ecf7-59ac-94e1-ac85137d35fb)
Title Page (#u5a36f7ed-24f2-57e6-9a2a-8554b39565c1)
About the Author (#u5ff511ad-8e06-5c9a-8600-b20136c4b600)
Dedication (#u1c47ce18-c012-598c-b42c-79953fca6e80)
CHAPTER ONE (#ub87ee0f7-4446-547b-8fcc-885ae85764ee)
CHAPTER TWO (#u5c8e166a-1539-54d7-8181-0b85614340a3)
CHAPTER THREE (#ua9f206d9-08a9-5080-aa09-8bbc5553200f)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u582d620e-9b45-5324-85a0-ab0a84a22a20)
CHAPTER FIVE (#uc3ef19b9-c6f5-5dac-8ef5-355e6a91a2b7)
CHAPTER SIX (#u4bf3e0eb-7d13-536f-92ef-9823aeb9e1ed)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u20209f12-4c6e-5617-aabb-2a854e3fc199)
OLIVIA WATCHED HER ex-husband dance with his bride.
From the deep shadows along the driveway, in view of the ranch house where she’d once lived at the Circle H, she watched other people join the bride and groom and listened to the soft strains of the ballad the band was playing. And felt her eyes fill. She always cried at weddings, but this reception held special significance.
Overhead the stars twinkled like ornaments just for this summer night. Strung through the nearby cottonwood trees, fairy lights winked as if someone had matched the two displays, heaven and earth.
She wasn’t really part of this. Olivia had been invited to the wedding earlier that day, but as Logan’s former wife, it had seemed inappropriate to accept the invitation and she’d skipped the ceremony.
Carrying a large box wrapped in white with a silver bow, she stopped here and there to say hello to someone but didn’t linger. She planned to leave her gift—a quilt in the classic wedding ring design from her antiques shop—collect her seven-year-old son, who’d been his dad’s ring bearer, then go home.
What’s done is done.
Three years after her divorce, Olivia bore no hard feelings. The bride looked lovely in her lace-trimmed gown and Olivia already liked her. After all, she was Nick’s stepmother now, and Olivia’s little boy adored Blossom. Besides, Olivia had finally made her peace with Logan, her ex.
If she felt slightly left out tonight, that was her problem.
She’d had her turn and blown it. Olivia had always half expected her marriage to disintegrate as her parents’ had, and like some self-fulfilling prophecy, she now had the papers to prove it. Love clearly wasn’t her strong suit—except her maternal love for Nick. In that, she could be as fierce as a mother tiger, and Olivia intended to be the best single mom on the planet. On her own again, she worked hard to provide the emotional security for him—the stability—that she’d never known.
She could handle feeling invisible; she’d had a lifetime of experience at it.
Taking her gift toward the house, she spotted her brother in the crowd but didn’t get the chance to talk to him. Before she took another step, Olivia noticed yet another man crossing the lawn. And froze. At first, she thought he was Logan, that he’d changed from his khakis and navy blue blazer with the yellow pocket square to jeans with his white shirt. But it wasn’t Logan.
After nine years, her ex-husband’s twin brother was back.
Sawyer McCord.
Olivia turned then went the other way.
* * *
THE HEELS OF Sawyer’s new cowboy boots sank into the grass, forcing him to slow his steps before he reached the large gathering of wedding guests.
He was late. Later than late, actually. He’d almost missed the whole thing. He’d been lucky to make it at all and he could tell the reception was already half-over.
With varying degrees of skill, half a dozen couples gyrated on the temporary wooden dance floor in the middle of the lawn to a fast tune. Classic rock, which the band had just launched into after the bride and groom’s first dance. The cork from a fresh bottle of champagne popped loud enough to be heard over the music.
Sawyer glanced around but didn’t see his brother. Maybe just as well.
He wasn’t sure of the welcome he’d get. Weeks before, Logan had asked him to be his best man, but his brother’s email and some missed follow-up calls hadn’t caught Sawyer’s attention until recently. In the small, far-off country where he spent most of his time these days, he’d had his hands full. He wondered if the epic landslide in Kedar and its aftermath would strike Logan as reasonable excuses not to show up until now.
He scanned the yard again, recognizing a high school friend here, a longtime neighbor there. No one had seen him yet.
Or...had she?
His heart sank into the ground like his boot heels. Olivia. But almost before their gazes met, she looked away.
Wouldn’t you know she’d be the first person he saw?
Maybe he shouldn’t have come at all.
Hoping to buy a little more time before he faced Logan, Sawyer halted steps away from the milling group of wedding guests—and saw his grandfather coming toward him with a slight limp.
“Well, I’ll be. Sawyer McCord.” Sam studied him, then looked down at his own navy blue jacket and the white rose boutonniere in his lapel. “Wouldn’t be shocked if you didn’t recognize me in this getup. But what happened to you?”
“Guess like Indiana Jones, ‘it’s not the years, it’s the mileage.’”
In the past few weeks, while dealing with so much death and destruction, Sawyer had probably aged ten years. He hoped that didn’t show, but it probably did.
Sam had changed, too. His still-thick hair had a few more gray strands among the dark brown, and there were lines in his face Sawyer hadn’t seen before. But his blue eyes had stayed as sharp as ever and he was still whipcord lean. “When you were kids, no one could tell you apart from Logan.”
“They will now,” Sawyer said.
Sam’s voice hardened. “About time you showed up.”
“I would have come sooner, but...” He trailed off.
He didn’t want to think about, or remember, his final screwup thousands of miles from here. The clinic he’d cofounded with his partner in Kedar was always in danger of attack from rival tribes, but bullets and bombs weren’t the only means of devastation there. That huge landslide had brought half the mountain down, isolated the village and destroyed more lives than it should have. The disaster had tested his skills to repair, to heal, to save. And despite his lifelong urge to always step in, to help, Sawyer had failed. Was he as good a doctor as he’d believed he was, or—in violation of his Hippocratic oath—had he done more harm than good?
He tried to quiet his unruly thoughts. “How’s your leg, Sam?” According to Logan, a few months ago Sam had been thrown by one of his bison cows that took offense to him getting too close to her calf. Now, Sam’s cast was obviously off but his muscles must still be weak, even withered. At his age, full recovery would take time.
Sam was tough, though. “Good enough,” he said.
Sawyer could almost hear someone say, Go on, you two. At least slug each other on the arm as men do to show affection.
But he was afraid to move. Sam didn’t, either. They hadn’t parted on good terms, to put it mildly. Over the years since Sawyer had left the Circle H instead of taking over the ranch, finished medical school, then based his practice overseas, they hadn’t exchanged a single word. If Sam or Logan—or Olivia—had read about the landslide in the papers or online or seen the coverage on TV, they wouldn’t have known he was there. And although he’d felt tempted to let them know he, at least, was unharmed, Sawyer hadn’t tried to get in touch. He wouldn’t worry them. There was nothing they could have done, except worry.
Sam continued to study him. “Never thought I’d see you again. Don’t know if my heart’s up to the shock.”
Sawyer’s throat tightened but he didn’t say the words. I love you, too, Pops. Maybe he no longer had the right to call him that. He wasn’t sure Sam or the others cared about him anymore. His fault.
Without another word, his grandfather stomped back across the lawn to join a group of other ranchers and their wives. A moment later, his laughter floated on the warm night air to Sawyer, excluding him. He hadn’t been here twenty minutes and he was already in trouble with Sam. Nothing new.
He looked toward the spot where Olivia had been standing moments ago. In a wisp of filmy skirt and a silken swirl of blond hair, she was gone. He hadn’t missed the look in her eyes, though. She was no happier to see him than Sam seemed to be.
He squared his shoulders, then plunged into the crowd, greeting former friends he hadn’t seen in years. People, like Olivia and Sam, he’d never thought he’d see again.
* * *
THE LOUD MUSIC—the band played hard rock almost exclusively as the night wore on—made Olivia’s head hurt. Sipping at her single glass of champagne, which she didn’t really care for, she stayed on the fringe of the festivities, counting the minutes before she could leave. Avoiding Sawyer. Avoiding her father.
He and her stepmother had arrived from Dallas only that morning, her brother had told her. While she was glad her father had found a better life with Liza, she didn’t want to talk to him. Or to her, either.
Olivia was still here only because Nick had balked at leaving.
“I’m having fun!” he’d shouted. Then he’d run off again with his new best friend, headed for the refreshment tables.
Olivia had left her gift in the ranch house, and she wished she could go home now. Other people were beginning to drift toward the makeshift parking lot on the far side of the yard, the hard packed dirt area beyond the grass that led to Logan’s barn. She heard laughter, talk of some upcoming doings in town, a promise here and there to get together soon.
“Are you hiding?” Sawyer’s familiar voice snapped Olivia to attention. “I never thought of you as a wallflower. Yet here you are, keeping away from everyone. Or someone,” he added, obviously meaning himself.
She looked away. “I’m about to leave. It’s way past Nick’s bedtime.”
“Your son,” he said.
She nodded. “Your nephew. The one you’ve never met.”
That didn’t surprise Olivia. Sawyer had cut and run long ago, and he hadn’t come back—until now. Which reminded her of Nick’s mostly absent grandfather. Her dad hadn’t seen her son in a year. Nick was far closer to Sam Hunter, not that she would keep Nick from her father if he ever decided to play devoted grandpa at last.
She fought an urge to squirm. Seeing Sawyer appear so suddenly again had been a shock, but she hadn’t confused him with Logan for more than a second. Olivia had always been able to tell the twins apart when most people couldn’t. They had the same dark hair and deep blue eyes and almost identical builds, yet Olivia could see subtle differences. Their physical resemblance was strong but, for her, superficial.
Logan, who’d become a professional test pilot, was steady and calm; Sawyer was more intense and impulsive. She couldn’t deny he was an attractive man, to put it mildly, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him again, and Olivia wasn’t in the mood for a heart-to-heart chat—or anything else.
She searched for Nick, then spotted him marching around the yard carrying a big piece of cake in a napkin. The band launched into yet another earsplitting tune and Olivia took a step. “I’d better go.”
Sawyer stopped her. “So this is how it will be, Olivia? Come on, I’ve already been stiffed by Sam. Haven’t talked to Logan yet. Why not spare me a minute here? It’s been a long time. Tell me how you’ve been since...the last time I saw you.”
“Fine,” she said. Her personal life was certainly none of his concern. Never mind that they’d once been friends. That had ended a long time ago in a field between the Circle H and Wilson Cattle, her family’s ranch next door. “In fact, I’ve just heard about a possible opportunity to expand my antiques business. There’s another store on the way to Wichita that I’ve been interested in for some time. The owner plans to retire.” She bit her lip not to ask Sawyer about his life. They weren’t friends anymore.
He looked past her toward Nick. “Which would mean a move? Away from Barren?” He knew she wasn’t fond of the Circle H, in part because of him.
“Possibly. I haven’t thought that far yet,” she admitted. “I’d probably want to be near both shops. There’s a nice little town halfway between there and Barren, so I’d have an easy commute each way. I’ve heard good things about their elementary school. By September, when Nick starts second grade, maybe I’ll be ready to move.”
Olivia hadn’t said the last word before Nick rushed up to them with his friend Ava, Olivia’s niece. The two had gradually come closer but Olivia hadn’t noticed. His deep blue eyes, so like his father’s and Sawyer’s, flashed. “No!” he yelled, making Olivia’s ears quiver.
“Nick—”
“I won’t leave the Circle H! I’ll stay here with Daddy!” Then he pulled Ava across the yard, through half a dozen cars in the parking area and they raced toward the barn. “I’m going to see my kitten!”
The blood drained from Olivia’s face. “I didn’t realize he could hear us. I haven’t talked with him yet or made a firm decision.”
“He had a point, though. And what would Logan say?”
“He won’t want us to leave town, but...” She watched the children disappear into the barn and stifled the need to go after them. “I didn’t mean to upset Nick. I’ll give him a bit of time, then talk to him.” She hesitated. “But I have to think about my business, too. Our means of support.”
“Olivia.”
Determined to avoid any more talk with Sawyer, she left him standing there and started toward a small group of other guests gathered near the porch. On the front steps, Blossom held her bridal bouquet aloft. An excited bunch of younger women were waving their arms, hoping to catch the spray of white roses, baby’s breath and calla lilies and be the next to marry.
After she’d made the toss, Blossom came down the steps, her gait somewhat impeded by her gown and her obvious pregnancy. Her unhappy previous relationship was behind her now. This baby, although not hers with Logan, would be born into love, would be cherished...as Olivia cherished Nick.
Blossom said, “Thank you for the gorgeous quilt.”
“My pleasure. Best wishes.”
Olivia said goodbye to Blossom, then started toward the barn. She was halfway there when nine-year-old Ava burst outside and tore up the hill, her eyes wide as she barreled into Olivia.
She caught the little girl’s shoulders. “What is it, Ava?”
Breathless, she could hardly speak. “Nick! He fell. I think he’s dead!”
CHAPTER TWO (#u20209f12-4c6e-5617-aabb-2a854e3fc199)
SAWYER HAD FINALLY found a chance to speak to Logan. They had just started to talk, when a little girl he didn’t recognize shot out of the barn, waving her arms and shouting. Halfway up the hill, she ran straight into Olivia, and Sawyer watched Olivia’s face turn white.
Logan was already running toward them. “Nicky!” he yelled. “Nicky!”
As if his boots were glued to the spot, Sawyer stayed where he was. For a guy who’d always responded to any crisis stat, who’d studied and interned, done his residency and practiced medicine under the worst trauma conditions, he couldn’t seem to move.
Nicky. His nephew’s name alone should have galvanized Sawyer but didn’t. He heard the girl’s words echo, sounding thick inside his head, as if both ears were plugged. Dead.
A dozen images of disaster flashed in his mind. A man pulled from the rubble, one of his arms crushed. A pregnant woman, her cuts and scrapes ignored as she went into labor on the hard, rock-strewn ground, moaning in pain. A precious child...
From behind him, Blossom loped across the lawn, holding up her bridal skirts, then passed him by. Several other late-leaving wedding guests rushed with her to the barn.
And still he didn’t move.
After a long moment, he realized Olivia hadn’t, either. With one hand over her mouth, her blue eyes wide circles of fear, she stood there, frozen like some ice statue. The little girl clung now to her skirt.
“Stay here,” he said, finally forcing his legs into motion. On his way past, he lightly touched Olivia’s shoulder. “Let me check out the situation.”
She didn’t answer. Pulse thumping, he left her and, like some caboose at the end of a train when he was used to being the steam engine, followed the last people into the barn.
He couldn’t see through the circle of wedding guests in the aisle, their bodies blocking his view.
“Move back. I’m a doctor,” he said but in a weak tone.
Logan was the last person to obey his order. He’d been down on one knee, bending helplessly over his little boy. Sawyer felt the same way. Those other images kept running through his brain.
He pushed the memories aside. “Let me see, Logan.”
Logan didn’t have a trace of color left in his face. He got up but his gaze didn’t leave his son.
Sawyer’s nephew—the small blond boy he’d never seen in person until tonight—lay half-conscious, sprawled on his back on the barn floor. His skin gray, his eyes closed, he looked almost peaceful.
Sawyer assessed his condition—airway, breathing, circulation. He preferred the few photos he’d seen of Nick, his birth announcement with a newborn picture attached to the email, the baby looking as if he were already able to smile, and later a first-birthday party shot of him in his high chair. Happy times in which he’d had pink cheeks and bright eyes.
He felt Nick’s fine-boned wrist again for a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief. “Light,” he said, adding silently, and a bit thready. He didn’t want to worry people.
Blossom drew Logan close. He rested his forehead against hers. “Thank God.”
His hand shaking, Sawyer raised each of Nick’s eyelids to assess his pupils. He didn’t like the look of them. “Come on, Nick. Talk to me. Squeeze my hand.”
Show me something here. Though he knew Nick was still alive, the word dead kept spinning through his mind, reminding him of that other child who, because of Sawyer, wasn’t breathing any more. He examined the boy’s legs, his arms, searching for fractures.
“No obvious breaks,” he said, turning to Logan. Sawyer wouldn’t mention a possible skull fracture. Nick needed a more thorough assessment than he could provide here, and he was no neurologist.
The little girl who’d called for help had entered the barn with a woman who must be her mother. She was vaguely familiar, but his focus stayed on Nick.
Without glancing at her again, Sawyer asked the girl, “What happened here?”
Her voice quavered. “Nick was mad at his mom. We came to the barn. I thought we were going to see the kitten, but Nick climbed the ladder to the hayloft instead. He told me to go away.” She began to cry. “I didn’t see how it happened. But he fell.”
Sawyer patted Nick’s cheek to stimulate him. He heard a shuffle in the aisle. A couple of people shifted to let her through, and Olivia was finally there, moving like someone in a bad dream.
Sawyer said, “He must have hit his head pretty hard. He’ll need a neuro consult, but first...” He looked around. “Where’s Doc?” he asked, referring to the local physician who’d treated Sawyer as a kid. There weren’t many choices in Barren, and Sawyer supposed he was Nick’s doctor now. “I saw him earlier at the reception.”
“He went home,” Blossom murmured.
“You’re here,” he heard Olivia say in a firmer tone than he might have expected. Or no, it was exactly what he expected. It was almost an accusation, and another memory assailed him. Sawyer and Olivia, racing their horses across that nearby field until...he hadn’t yelled a warning in time. Did she think of him now as a last resort?
His stomach heaved. I can’t do this, especially for my brother’s kid. If I can’t trust my judgment, what use would I be? Once, he’d exuded confidence with what had amounted to a typical god complex. Kedar had changed that.
Sam hurried into the barn carrying a neck collar to stabilize Nick for transport. “Got this after I tangled with that cow. I called an ambulance.”
“Won’t get here soon enough. He needs to go now.” The collar was too big but Sawyer made a few adjustments. It would do.
He studied his brother and Blossom. He felt as helpless as they looked, even though he was the one who’d gone to med school. He’d practiced in a foreign country, often without proper medical supplies and equipment, especially in those days after the landslide when Sawyer’s sense of powerlessness had finally overwhelmed him. He felt the same way now.
He glanced at the open barn doors, seeking escape.
* * *
THE COMPLEX OF buildings at Farrier General Hospital squatted just off the highway in the next town from Barren. Olivia hadn’t been here in three years, since her marriage had ended after the spring flood when Nick almost died from pneumonia. Every smell reminded her of that night she’d nearly lost him.
Her nerves on edge, Olivia gazed down the hall again but didn’t see a familiar form approaching. For the past few months Olivia had been seeing another antiques dealer from Kansas City, and she would have welcomed his presence now. But so far, Clint was nowhere to be seen. She’d left him a message about Nick, but she certainly didn’t feel Clint’s support.
Earlier, she had gone into Nick’s ER cubicle with Logan, concerned for their son’s welfare, together in a new show of unity. Blossom had stayed in the waiting room where they joined her now while Nick was having tests. Logan was still pale and Olivia imagined she must appear chalk-white herself.
“I’m sorry your honeymoon is delayed,” she said for want of something else to say.
Nick had been taken to the imaging center and Olivia tried not to imagine the worst again. At least he’d fully wakened in Logan’s truck before the rush with Sawyer to Farrier. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? She wished Sawyer would come back to the waiting room with a report for them.
“We can take a honeymoon anytime.” Logan reached for her hand to still Olivia’s constant fussing. “Try not to worry, Libby. I know how you are.”
“As if you aren’t just as worried.”
“Does it show?” Like someone who had wandered in from some production of a play and was still in costume, Logan was wearing his wedding clothes. A few grains of rice dotted the shoulders and lapels of his navy blue blazer. He’d long ago given his yellow pocket square to Blossom who, in a chair opposite, was crying softly into her hands.
“It shows,” Olivia said. She glanced toward the elevators. Still no sign of Clint. Maybe she’d been right that even dabbling in the dating scene again was a bad idea. “Of course it shows. What’s taking so long?”
“Don’t ask me.” He looked at her. “Reminds you of the flood, doesn’t it? Being trapped at the ranch? I feel as helpless now as I did then.”
Olivia shuddered. Nick’s temperature had kept spiking higher, and she and Sam hadn’t been able to get it down even with cool baths. “I thought you’d never get there.”
He arched an eyebrow. When the waters started rising at the Circle H, Logan had been in Wichita for his job as a test pilot for a small manufacturer of private jets. Now he was a rancher again, though she wondered if that would last. “Lucky we did. After I reached your brother’s place, we rode cross-country in the pitch-black, praying our horses wouldn’t run into a barbed wire fence we couldn’t see.” That only reminded her of the horse she’d lost in that same field. “I’m still sorry, Olivia, that I wasn’t there for you sooner.”
Briefly, she leaned her head against his shoulder. “You came,” she said. “That’s all that mattered.” And at one time, she’d thought he was everything she needed. “I shouldn’t have spent so much time blaming you.” Three years, she thought, until this past spring.
She straightened, her heart tripping. Sawyer was coming down the hall toward them at last. She couldn’t tell from his face what, if anything, he’d learned.
Logan shot to his feet. “Well?”
Sawyer put out both hands, palms down. “Relax. He’s okay. No real damage.”
“Then why aren’t you smiling?” Olivia asked.
Sawyer seemed not to hear her. “He doesn’t quite know what happened at the barn but that’s nothing to worry about. He’ll remember. His pupils are equal and reactive now...”
Logan shook his head. “That reminds me of Sam. While he still had his cast on, he decided to take a horseback ride, prove he was fine—and fell in that same barn aisle. He still has some residual effects from his concussion.”
“He had two falls? All I ever heard was he’d broken his leg.”
“Maybe you should check in more often,” Logan muttered.
Obviously, their reunion hadn’t gone well, but she’d picked up on something that mattered even more to her. He’d said no real damage. “What’s wrong, Sawyer?”
“Probably nothing, just me feeling twitchy.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “The hospital wouldn’t send him home if they thought he wasn’t okay. They’re going to release him tonight...into my care.”
He didn’t seem to want that responsibility, and Olivia wondered why. Although he’d finally come with them to the hospital, she’d resented his hesitation at first. True, he didn’t know Nick very well—in fact, not at all—but did he not like children? Or was he holding a grudge? He and Logan hadn’t been close for a number of years, but that couldn’t be all. As a doctor, Sawyer was bound by an oath to treat those who needed him.
Had he been reluctant to help Nick because of her?
Because his “help” years ago had only led to tragedy for Olivia.
* * *
HOURS LATER, at the ranch, Olivia and Logan settled Nick into bed upstairs while Sawyer paced the family room. If he were the admitting physician at Farrier General, Nick would be in a room there overnight under observation. Or was Sawyer still in panic mode?
All he could think of was another pending disaster. The wrong diagnosis. Something Sawyer had missed at his clinic with someone else’s child. Those nightmares haunted him every night and sometimes during the day until his hands shook and his heart beat like thunder.
If he had to diagnose himself, he’d say post-traumatic stress disorder. PTSD, like a soldier after battle, which in a way he supposed he was. Certainly the long hours, the deprivations, the constant stream of crises coming through the clinic door after the landslide should qualify as traumatic. For sure, his error in judgment did.
And then, as if he needed more, there was Olivia. Being back had already made clear her ongoing mistrust of him. Earlier, she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
He turned to make another circuit of the room. The house, the yard, were quiet. The reception was long over. The caterers had packed up and left, and not a single car remained in the makeshift parking area. The nearby kitchen looked immaculate. The neatness all around should have calmed him, its sense of order and all the trappings of civilization.
What could happen here? But of course, he knew, and not only because of Nick. Because of Olivia.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs and, before Sawyer could finish his thought, Logan walked into the room. He’d ditched his blazer and tie and rolled up his white shirtsleeves.
“He asleep?” Sawyer asked.
“Drifting in and out, I think.”
Olivia had wanted to take Nick home to their house in Barren, to his own bed for the night, but Logan wouldn’t hear of that. Olivia would stay here with Nick, and the newlyweds would spend their first night of marriage on the Circle H, close enough to make sure Nick was okay before they even thought about leaving on their honeymoon. And perhaps most important, this was where Sawyer would be staying. He was supposedly in charge for the night. Nick had been released only because a doctor would be present.
His palms began to sweat. And as he’d expected earlier, his brother wasn’t happy with him. Nick’s accident had only delayed their talk.
“I appreciate you finally coming back,” Logan said. “Even if you didn’t make it in time to be my best man. But I’m still mad.”
“Because I showed up late? I’m sorry, but I’m here now.” His brother appeared a lot calmer than Sawyer felt. His reluctance to explain himself warred with his longing to reconnect with his twin. He wanted to hear Logan call him Tom again, as he used to do, a teasing play on his name.
“Hell, Sawyer, you didn’t even bother to answer my calls.”
Okay, he could give Logan this much. “I run a clinic in a remote area. You can’t imagine how remote. I bet you’ve never heard of Kedar. In the heart of the Himalayas, the highest, most rugged mountains on earth. You think the Circle H can be hard to get to?”
“Hard enough,” Logan murmured. “Three years ago, we nearly lost Nick right here when a spring flood blocked the roads to town and washed out the driveway. He and Olivia were stuck, trapped, in fact—I wasn’t home—and Nick was very sick.”
“I didn’t know.”
“If Grey and I hadn’t forged our way from Wilson Cattle over the hill on horseback, he could have died of pneumonia. So yeah, I know hard.”
“Maybe so, but those people I work with have very little. To them, the Circle H would seem like paradise—except they love those mountains. Even my sat phone doesn’t always work there.” He added, “If it did, I would have called you back.” Yet his phone had been working fine before the landslide; his cell, too, most of the time. “I imagine Grey Wilson must have done a good job as best man in my place.”
“He did. But how would I know about your sat phone—or anything else? Sawyer, the last time I talked to you, about Sam’s accident, all I got was ‘I’m here and there, doing this and that.’ That was months ago. And then there was your silence about the wedding. We’re brothers. Why didn’t you tell me where you were? What you were doing?”
Sawyer took the verbal lashing. He had been secretive about his clinic, about his life there. For one thing, Sam wouldn’t have approved. For another, Sawyer’s decision to leave the Circle H—in part because of his feelings for Olivia—had been immature, and though he didn’t regret opening the clinic, he was sorry for the way he’d left things at home. Not sharing much about Kedar had been a way to avoid dealing with how he’d treated his family. He wasn’t proud of running out on them, but it was obviously his MO.
Logan wasn’t finished. “After Mom and Dad died, you and I were never apart for more than a day or two until you left here for good. Left me with the Circle H,” Logan said. “And that’s all I get from you now? Some weak excuse? I mean, what’s the point of living in a place like you describe?”
“I like to help people. I don’t belong here anymore.”
“What are you, really? Special Ops—and you don’t want us to know? A spy?”
He didn’t smile. “I’m just a doctor.” Or I was. He wouldn’t elaborate. If Logan couldn’t accept his apology for nearly missing his wedding day, he could live with that. He had a bigger guilt to wrestle with—and that was on him alone. He wasn’t about to share. “Listen. Just as you asked, I’ll stay with Sam while you and Blossom take your honeymoon. I hope you have a great time.” He held his breath. “We okay, then?”
Logan shrugged. “I’ll see how you do while I’m gone. Think I’ll try to get some sleep,” he said, then turned and went up the stairs.
Sawyer let out a sigh. But he wasn’t alone for long. Logan had no sooner disappeared than Olivia came down the steps. She looked wan, exhausted, and Sawyer didn’t want to face her, not after their earlier conversation.
“You look beat. You can have my room, Olivia.” The words sounded strange to him. Sawyer hadn’t slept there in over nine years, but the wallpaper, the bedspread, the pictures on the desk were still the same. He’d left that room, this ranch, behind a few days after Olivia married his brother.
He tried a half smile. “I’ll take my pillow, though, if you don’t mind. Took me a long time to get that punched down just the way I like it. I’ve missed that.” Missed you, he thought, but he could never say so and certainly she didn’t feel the same way about him.
Olivia cleared her throat. “Fine. Or I could take this sofa.”
“Wouldn’t hear of it. You need a good night’s rest.”
“You don’t?”
“I’ll need to check on Nick periodically.” He already dreaded that. The boy wasn’t his responsibility and yet tonight he was. Being near Nick made him more than uncomfortable, afraid he’d do something wrong again, maybe with catastrophic results. Yet he owed Olivia—and had for years.
“Thank you, Sawyer.” The sound of his name from her lips made every muscle in his body tense. “This certainly isn’t a holiday for you. Leaving your busy practice, coming back for Logan...ending up with another case on your hands.”
“For tonight.” For you, he thought. He paused. “I’m not really practicing medicine now. While I’m here to help out at the Circle H, I’ll need to make some decisions about my future.”
“You wouldn’t go back? To wherever you’ve been?”
Sawyer hesitated, then mumbled something vague about Kedar. Their friendship had ended, she’d married his twin brother instead...and Sawyer hadn’t been the same since.
“Don’t know,” he said. “Don’t need to know right now.”
Olivia glanced down at the rug, then up again. Her eyes held his. “There must be some reason for your indecision.” She waved a hand as if she were indicating his clinic, which seemed unlikely. She didn’t know about what had happened there.
Sawyer had told Logan enough for one night. He wouldn’t enlighten Olivia. No one else had to know about his mistake—not this far removed from the clinic, and certainly not at the Circle H, where he’d experienced the other two worst moments of his life. Losing both his parents at once and, later, driving Olivia away.
Anyway, he wouldn’t be able to get the words out without crumbling into pieces. Olivia was the last person he’d confide in. He couldn’t risk showing her his weakness, which would only reaffirm what she must still think of him.
“I need to check on Nick,” he said and started for the stairs.
CHAPTER THREE (#u20209f12-4c6e-5617-aabb-2a854e3fc199)
BY THE NEXT MORNING, Nick seemed much better. Olivia was not. Although she felt relieved about her son, a glimpse in the bathroom mirror had showed her a too-pale woman with dark shadows under her eyes. At the kitchen table, she sipped coffee and made plans to leave the Circle H as soon as Nick finished his cereal.
His face had color again and he continued to shovel in his breakfast as if he might never see another meal. Sometimes he astonished Olivia with the amount of food he could take in, which should have eased her mind. Her growing boy.
“Eat up, punkin. We need to go. I have an appointment out of town today.”
Nick spoke around a mouthful of Cheerios. “Who’s going to watch me?”
With school out for the summer, she’d have to rely on her usual babysitter, but in last night’s chaos she had forgotten to double-check. “Susie,” she said.
Olivia yawned. She hadn’t slept well in Sawyer’s bed, imagining his scent in the room, surrounded by the trappings of his younger life. And worried about Nick, she’d only dozed, waking with a start each time to wonder if he was okay.
Once in the night, she’d met Logan in the hall with the same intent to see their son, and another time she’d nearly run into Sawyer. Her mind foggy, Olivia had hurried back to her room.
“Why can’t I stay here today?” Nick asked, nearly knocking over his orange juice. “I could ride Hero.”
His new horse was a bone of contention for Olivia, who hadn’t been consulted before Logan bought the gelding. She’d been working on becoming less protective of Nick but had a hard time keeping her mouth shut about this. Logan argued he’d rather see their boy on a steady mount than trying to handle one of the other, sometimes unpredictable, horses already in the Circle H stables. He was too big now for a pony.
She had to admit the gentle gray gelding with a showy black mane and tail took good care of Nick. She shouldn’t worry, not about that at least.
“No Hero today for you.” Logan had appeared in the kitchen doorway, and Olivia appreciated the backup despite wondering how long their united front would last. “Nicky, that’s not a good idea. Grandpa Sam will set you up with the TV instead. You can watch a movie, play a video game...”
Nick gave him an assessing look. “Daddy, I want to ride.”
Logan smiled at Blossom, who had joined him in the doorway. They both wore a visible glow this morning. He caught Olivia staring at them.
“A different wedding night than we’d planned,” he admitted. “We both passed out as soon as our heads hit the pillows. We’ll be talking about that for years.” On his way by, Logan ruffled Nick’s hair then headed for the coffee maker. “I know you’re feeling better, but you took quite a spill last night. Hero can wait for a few days. Okay?”
Nick didn’t answer. He crunched more cereal. Obviously unhappy, he refused to look at Logan, and Olivia saw the little frown between his brows that, in such a young face, always clutched at her heart. She set aside her coffee cup, then rose from the table.
“I appreciate the offer to keep Nick, but I’ll see that he plays quietly today at home,” she said, making a mental note to call Susie. Olivia turned to Blossom, who was pouring a glass of orange juice. “Are you guys leaving today?”
“The car’s already packed.” She hugged Olivia. “Thanks for coming yesterday. I know that wasn’t easy for you, then Nick had his accident... That was quite a scare, but since he seems to be fine, yes—we’ll start for the West Coast.”
That had been Blossom’s dream when she’d fled the nightmare of her previous relationship. On the run from her abusive fiancé and determined to protect her unborn baby, she’d thought if she reached California she’d be free. Olivia was glad she had a happier occasion to celebrate now and the coming baby to look forward to soon.
Blossom and Logan were driving west. Her pregnancy was far enough along that she didn’t feel comfortable flying, and some airlines didn’t permit that in the last trimester. They also wanted to see the sights on their way.
“I’m good,” Nick said to his cereal bowl. “My head hardly hurts at all.”
Another pair of footsteps clattered down the steps and Sawyer came into the room. He looked at Olivia as he spoke, his tone thin. The conversation must have drifted up the stairs to him. “He really should stay here.” As if he didn’t want him to but felt he had to suggest that. “With Sam,” he added.
Was he omitting himself? Sawyer had always had a passionate streak, taking chances, riding the rankest horse. Olivia felt certain he’d carried that into his career as a physician, one who must deal often with trauma worse than Nick’s fall yesterday. His history of making quick decisions, taking risks, would be an asset.
Yet she saw a new difference in him. Olivia couldn’t put her finger on what that was, but she saw it in his eyes. He seemed to be hiding something deep inside.
She stared into her half-empty cup. The riskiest thing she planned to do was to possibly move away from Barren.
“Did I hear my name?” When Sam wandered into the kitchen in search of coffee, too, she almost groaned. He and Nick liked to hang out together and she expected Sam to weigh in about Nick, but he surprised her. “Sorry, won’t be here today. With Logan gone, I have work to do.” He didn’t mention Sawyer.
She felt almost sorry for him. He still had his troubles with Sam and Logan.
Olivia gathered her bag and the sweater she’d brought yesterday in case the air grew cool during the reception. “My sitter can watch Nick. I’ll fill Susie in on his fall so she’ll make sure he takes it easy. Let’s go, punkin.”
She wondered if she imagined the relief on Sawyer’s face.
* * *
AFTER OLIVIA LEFT with Nick, Sawyer wandered down to the barn. Aside from last night, he hadn’t been there in nine years. The familiar smells of hay and leather and manure assailed his senses, taking him back to another time when life had seemed simpler—when as a boy, then during college, Sawyer had lived for this barn, these horses. Back when he’d expected to take over the Circle H one day.
Then, after Sawyer’s first year of med school, Olivia had married his brother, and Sawyer had stopped coming home. Sometimes he thought part of his reason for opening the clinic in Kedar three years ago had been to get so far away from Barren that he’d never feel tempted to contact Olivia again.
This morning he couldn’t get past his new feelings of guilt, and to make matters worse, he was still worried about Nick.
My head hardly hurts at all. Sometimes, as Sawyer knew only too well, kids tried to cover up or downplay their symptoms, or they couldn’t articulate what was wrong until it was too late. Yet, even the Hippocratic oath couldn’t convince Sawyer it was his place to make Nick stay at the ranch or to watch over him. Olivia had decided to leave, and she was Nick’s mother.
In the quiet sunlit aisle of the barn, he talked for a few minutes with a couple of ranch hands. The pair was saddling a bay mare and an Appaloosa gelding. Willy and Tobias were getting ready to ride fence, he supposed. Once he went back up the hill, he’d be alone in the house. He had nothing to do. “I could ride with you,” he offered, although he hadn’t been on a horse much in recent years.
Willy, a tall man with dirty blond hair and a sly manner Sawyer didn’t like, eyed him up and down, obviously noting his new jeans and boots. “Rough work,” he said. “Wouldn’t want to mess you up.”
Tobias, who was older and had a wiry build, snorted. “Fancy duds.”
Sawyer flinched. They didn’t want him to go with them. Okay, he got that. Once he’d been a pretty fair hand. Now, with rusty skills, he’d only get in their way. He’d likely cut himself on some barbed wire and remember he was overdue for a tetanus shot.
Tobias and Willy mounted up. With a tip of their hats, they ducked low to ride out of the barn, looking more comfortable in their well-worn saddles than they did on two legs. As their horses trotted toward the pasture gate, he heard the two men laughing.
Leaning to open the gate, Willy called back. “Come over to the Wilsons’ later if you want to help. We’re rounding up some missing cattle.” A wedding guest last night had mentioned a trio of rustlers who’d tried to clean Grey Wilson out, but they’d been caught and the local ranchers had offered to help bring the cows home. “Logan’s prob’ly got some old clothes you can borrow. Pickup keys are in the black truck.”
Sawyer watched them go. He was only here to help Sam and get his own head together. After Logan returned from his honeymoon, Sawyer would leave. Yet Grey was an old friend. How could he not drive over to Wilson Cattle, at least offer to pitch in?
But Grey was also Olivia’s brother. What if she was there later, too? He didn’t relish another awkward conversation with her.
He half wished Nick had stayed, a ready excuse for Sawyer to remain at the Circle H all day, not that the kid had exactly taken to him. He’d examined Sawyer with curiosity, confused him at first with Logan, then seemed to dismiss him.
Besides, Nick reminded him of that other child he hadn’t been able to save. The memory of that boy, who like many others had been pulled from the landslide rubble, made him feel guilty all over again. His dreadful mistake had cost a young life, and he couldn’t seem to forgive himself for that, either.
How possibly to atone?
There was no way to bring back that dark-haired, dark-eyed child or to relieve the sorrow Sawyer had seen in his parents’ eyes. He could only guess how that must hurt.
At the age of eight, Sawyer had lost his mother and father in a road accident. They’d been on their way home the day before his and Logan’s birthday. It was Sam who’d raised them, adopted him and Logan, who’d been here all these years like a father to them.
The memory of his parents had saddened him. It seemed that everyone he loved, he lost.
Sawyer drifted down the barn aisle, stopping here and there to say hello to each horse that sidled up to the stall bars and poked out a soft nose. He didn’t realize Sam was in the next stall until Sawyer walked up to peer at the black colt inside.
The horse’s ears flattened against his skull. His eyes rolled, showing the whites. Not a good demonstration of his nature.
Sam lifted his head. “Better keep back.” At the horse’s side, he’d been bent over, picking the colt’s hooves. “He doesn’t like strangers.”
Sawyer obeyed. He didn’t fear the horse, but he wouldn’t agitate him and get Sam into trouble. Moving around in an occupied stall could be dangerous.
He assessed the animal with a cool eye. He had good conformation—beautiful, in fact. His glossy black hide shone in the soft light coming through the stall window that opened onto the barnyard. The colt danced around, reminding Sawyer of another horse years ago, shifting his hindquarters one way, then the other as if he were doing a samba. “He looks like a real handful.”
“Oh, he is,” Sam said but with apparent pride. “Picked him up at a sale. Guy there told me this one’s daddy was a prizewinner—champion barrel racer—but his baby showed no signs of following in his hoofprints. I got him for a song.” Still hunched over, Sam glanced up again. “Cyclone has no manners. And he bites.”
“You love him,” Sawyer murmured. He could see that in Sam’s eyes.
“I will.” He straightened, then lightly swatted Cyclone on his near flank to shift him over. “Once he learns how to behave.”
“Has he had any groundwork?” The horse, which appeared to be a yearling, wouldn’t be ready to ride until he was three, but he needed to learn some of those manners long before that. Sawyer’s hand all but twitched to feel a lunge line in his grasp, with one flick of his wrist to get the colt moving with a fluid, forward gait in the corral.
“Logan offered to work with him,” Sam said, “and so has Grey Wilson, but neither one has gotten around to that, much less breaking him first.”
Sawyer didn’t like the term break. It implied ruining an animal’s spirit. He preferred a gentler touch.
Years ago, he’d not only been a better ranch hand in the making than his twin brother, he’d also trained a few horses. One of them, at an advanced age and probably now in retirement, still lived in the end stall by the barn doors. On his way through, Sawyer had slipped him an apple. Another, Sundance, was Sam’s horse and now Logan’s part of the time. Another...had belonged to Olivia, but that horse wasn’t here or at Wilson Cattle.
“I could give the colt a try,” he said, testing the waters. He wasn’t the only one to remember that other horse. He doubted Sam would trust him with the colt.
Sam blinked. “Been a while since you handled a green one like Cyclone.”
“I’m willing to try, though. While I’m here,” he added.
“He’ll need lots of attention. You plan to stay that long?”
“I don’t know. Depends on what you mean by long.” Yet Sawyer felt his spirits begin to lift. Frankly, this morning he’d been feeling sorry for himself. Regretting his reluctance to take responsibility for Nick’s care. Knowing he wasn’t part of the Circle H anymore, part of anything, really. His partner, Charlie, in the clinic had seemed half-relieved to see him go. Sawyer’s presence was a constant reminder of what had happened there, and he guessed Olivia felt similarly about him. He’d be doing her a favor to keep away from her.
Sam was right. He wouldn’t stay long, didn’t know where to go when he left, much less how to find redemption for his sins. Still...
He reached through the stall bars, taking the chance to stroke the colt’s nose. For his first attempt at friendship, he got a sharp nip that broke the skin on his index finger. Sawyer snatched his hand back.
“Told you.” Sam shoved the horse aside to slide open the door. “Saw him take off the tip of someone’s ear a couple months ago.” He stepped out into the aisle, then threw the bolt, shutting Cyclone inside.
Sawyer looked at the colt for a moment. It seemed suddenly important to establish his temporary niche at the Circle H, give himself something to do while he was here. Maybe with Cyclone he’d do better than he had with a scalpel in his hand in Kedar. By the time he left, the black colt might have the foundation to become a decent horse. If Sawyer didn’t fail again.
“I’ll try anyway,” he told Sam.
* * *
OLIVIA WAS STILL fuming as she parked her car in front of the antiques shop where she had a meeting with the owner, who wanted to sell. Without warning and after Olivia had called to remind her, Susie had cancelled, which was becoming a habit for Nick’s babysitter. More than once this summer, Olivia had been forced to work from home, which had meant closing her store and losing business for the day, to stay with Nick. Her primary concern, of course, was her son, but she’d had to bring him with her today, and Susie’s frequent no-shows were a problem.
Now, because Olivia hadn’t let Nick stay at the ranch, he was sulking. Still mad, too, she supposed, about their possible move.
Even so, he was unusually quiet. She shut off the car’s engine, glanced at Nick in the rear seat, then opened her door. Maybe it was better that he’d come with her so she could watch him. From what she’d seen last night and earlier today, she wouldn’t want Sawyer to look after him. What kind of doctor was he?
“Nick, Mr. Anderson is waiting for us.”
Theodore Anderson met them at the door. His stooped posture, the frail look of him, alarmed Olivia. The last time she’d seen him, he’d appeared much stronger. His watery eyes and the fringe of white hair around his scalp added to the impression. Olivia hoped her dismay didn’t show on her face.
“Ted, how nice to see you.” She reached out for a hug. “This is my son, Nick.”
He shook Nick’s hand. “How do you do, young man?”
Nick mumbled a response. Ted had the old-fashioned manners of a nineteenth-century gentleman, which suited his profession, but Olivia caught a faint flicker of unease in his gaze, to which she could relate. Like hers, his shop was filled to the rafters with furniture and delicate collectibles. Every tabletop held glass paperweights, exquisite crystal, ceramic figurines. Olivia spied a graceful Lladró statue of an elegant lady in gray with sweeping, sculpted skirts, one of the first designs the esteemed Spanish manufacturer had issued. Her mouth watered.
“What gorgeous things you have.”
Ted’s expression fell. “Apparently, I need to get rid of them. My son and his wife want me to move to Florida.”
What did he want? Olivia felt sorry for him. He was obviously under some pressure, but Ted’s wife had died several years ago, and she could see he’d declined since then. He probably felt he was losing his independence now.
“Do they live there?”
“No. My son has a small ranch not far from here. He’s convinced my arthritis will improve once I get away from our Kansas winters. They’ve found me a lovely condominium down South.” He didn’t sound enthusiastic.
Giving up his shop would be hard for Ted. He knew each item and where to find it in this magnificent clutter of a place. She didn’t doubt he loved every single piece.
“I take it you’re not wild about a move, but warmer weather might be nice,” she said. “I don’t care for snow myself.”
He smiled a little. “Then maybe you should buy that condo. I’ll stay to run my shop—and yours.”
“That wouldn’t work for me,” she said, “but I’m interested in buying you out here if you do want to sell.”
His thin shoulders slumped even more. “Let me show you around.”
Nick trailed behind, his fingers busy on the tablet she’d bought for his birthday, his gaze intent on the screen. He’d recently discovered Minecraft. Although the game was educational and creative, if she didn’t set limits for him, Nick would play all day and night.
Ted gave her a tour of the shop, pointing out an especially valuable English silver tea set here, an exquisite Victorian fainting couch upholstered in lush plum velvet there, while Olivia held her breath. She’d always loved his store. Ted had exquisite taste. He had carefully acquired an amazing and expensive collection, a good percentage of which Nick, lost in his game, could easily blunder into.
As they returned to the front of the store, Nick raised a hand to rub his forehead with a frown. He bumped against a round mahogany drum table from the eighteenth century, rattling its display of fine Lalique perfume bottles. Olivia barely righted one in time to prevent it from breaking.
Her heart slid back down into her chest. “Sorry,” she said just as Nick crashed into a small nearby liquor cabinet, a priceless-looking Tiffany vase on its top shelf. To her horror, the vase wobbled, then fell, shattering into pieces on the floor. Shards of glass, splintered with light into a full spectrum of colors, scattered everywhere.
Olivia cried out, then dropped to her knees to begin picking up the mess. “I’m so sorry, Ted. Of course I’ll pay for the damage.” Or try to. She felt too shaken at the moment to ask what this particular vase had been worth.
“No need to apologize. We’ll work it out.” But he looked upset himself. He was simply too polite to lose his temper, and he hastened to reassure Nick, who seemed dazed as he mumbled an apology.
Ted led them past the front counter, where an ancient computer sat gathering dust. Beside it was a vintage cash register that he’d once claimed still actually worked. He said, “Just tell me you have an offer I can live with. About the shop.”
Keeping one eye on Nick, Olivia named a figure.
Ted wrinkled his nose. “I had something a bit higher in mind.”
Olivia tensed. “You know I’ll take special care of all your treasures.” Remembering the broken vase, she winced. “I won’t let a single one go for less than a good price. I’ll love them as you do.”
“Well...” He didn’t go on.
“Think about this,” Olivia said, not wanting to press him any further. “Call me if you want to counter my offer. And let me know about the vase.”
Ted ignored that part. “Those kids want me to move soon. Not much time to inventory everything and then...leave,” he added. “I’ll be giving up my livelihood. My passion, as it were.”
Olivia laid a hand on his arm. “We’ll talk.” Her gaze strayed to Nick, who was now sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor, still furiously thumbing the tablet as if nothing had happened. “I’m sure we can come to some agreement.” She hesitated, then tried to sweeten the pot. “Once we do, I promise to keep you in the loop, ask your advice on things. Goodness, I can’t possibly know as much as you do. That way you can keep your hand in and the shop can still feel like yours. Which it always will be.” Another pause. “I want you to be happy, Ted.”
His expression told her he didn’t think that was likely, but Olivia left him to ponder her offer, hoping he’d come around. She badly wanted his business. When a deal was done, she could think about a move away from Barren, away from her memories, some of which Sawyer had stirred up with his unexpected return. She told herself he’d probably be gone before she packed a single box.
In the car, Olivia sagged in her seat. “Oh, Nick.” How would she pay for the vase? She had a rough idea of its value, a figure that made her want to groan. She hadn’t wanted to make a scene in Ted’s shop, but Nick hadn’t been paying attention. And now his carelessness might have cost her a deal with Ted. Nick needed to learn there were consequences to his actions. “Sweetie, the vase you broke was very expensive.” Not that Nick had a true understanding of the money involved. “I hate to do this, but I think it will be a valuable lesson. You’ll have to help earn the money to pay back Mr. Anderson.”
“How?” he moaned. “Mom, I don’t feel good. I still got a headache.”
Her breath caught. “I didn’t mean today. We can work something out later.”
Nick’s frown deepened as they headed out to Wilson Cattle, where Olivia planned to pitch in wherever she could with the return of Grey’s cattle. At Ted’s shop, she’d thought Nick was simply bored and cranky. Then she’d assumed he felt terrible about the broken vase, though he’d said nothing after his brief apology. Now she wondered. Was he just tired? Doubling down on the sulking because he’d have to do added chores to pay off part of the debt? Or was it something else?
She drove faster, trying to run through the numbers to adjust her offer to Ted but worrying more about Nick as she neared Barren.
“It really hurts,” he said with a groan.
Her pulse suddenly pounding, Olivia checked her rearview mirror. Nick’s face was ashen, worse than it had been last night. She wanted to pull over, but traffic on the interstate made that a dicey proposition. She’d risk getting hit while parked on the shoulder.
She gripped the steering wheel. “Hang on, baby. We’ll be there soon.”
She tried to tell herself he just needed something for the pain, that this was normal after what he’d been through last night. It wasn’t an emergency, was it?
She glanced again in the mirror.
Nick had slumped to one side. Dozing, as he’d often done in the back seat since he was a baby? Or had he passed out again?
Panic hit her as if a rock had been thrown through the windshield. “Nick!”
His eyes opened, then closed again. “I’m sleepy.”
A quick look at her GPS told Olivia they were nowhere near the hospital.
She grabbed her cell phone from the seat beside her and called Doc but only got a recorded message. Gone fishing. If you have an emergency, contact Dr. So-and-So... Olivia barely listened and missed the name. But no one answered at the clinic on Main Street, either.
She didn’t have a choice. The ranch wasn’t far now.
She hit Speed Dial for the Circle H and asked for Sawyer.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u20209f12-4c6e-5617-aabb-2a854e3fc199)
SAWYER DIDN’T TAKE the black ranch pickup. An hour or so after Willy and Tobias had ridden out, he saddled up Sundance, then started over the hill to Wilson Cattle. Although he hadn’t ridden in years—unless he counted the few house calls he’d made in Kedar, climbing the side of a mountain on a tough Asian pony—he relished the feel of Sundance’s much bigger, warm horseflesh between his legs.
The steady, rhythmic clop of iron-shod hooves on the hard dirt path of summer, the feel of leather reins guiding the horse around stony obstacles or out from under the occasional tree branch, made him happy for the first time since the landslide.
All by himself, Sawyer grinned. Once, he’d loved this place and never wanted to leave. Funny, the different trails life takes you on, he thought as he crested the low hill. For the first time since he’d walked into his brother’s wedding reception last night, he wasn’t thinking about Kedar or even Olivia.
That is, until he realized he was riding the same path he had with her years ago. Below, the neighboring ranch was a bustle of activity. Trucks parked everywhere. People milling about. Laughter and talk rising into the heated air. He spotted Everett Wilson with his new wife, Liza. They must have decided to stay longer instead of flying right back to Dallas after yesterday’s wedding.
A rig towing a stock trailer had just rolled in, stirring up dust and filled with bellowing cattle. Sawyer wondered if they were irritated at being herded into a metal pen on wheels with the others or if they were calling out in recognition that they were home again.
Wearing a black Stetson clamped over his light brown hair, Grey met him at the bottom of the hill. “You here to join the fun? We could use more help.” As he said the words, two other monster pickups with slat-sided trailers barreled along the driveway to the barn.
“Whatever you need me to do,” Sawyer said. He saw Willy and Tobias heading for the first truck and nodded in their direction. Willy tipped his straw cowboy hat as if to acknowledge the worn jeans and Western-style shirt Sawyer had filched from Logan’s closet. “Looks like you nearly lost a big bunch of cattle, Grey. How many?”
“A good percentage of my herd,” Grey agreed. “I’m more than glad to have them back.” He couldn’t seem to stop grinning, his blue-green eyes alight but not only for the cattle, Sawyer noted. The dark-haired woman he had seen with Grey the night before was coming across the ranch yard with the little girl who’d alerted everyone to Nick’s fall. As she came closer, Sawyer finally recognized the child’s mother—Grey’s long-ago girlfriend.
Grey scooped her close to his side, then ruffled the girl’s hair. “You remember Shadow?” he asked. “And this is Ava. Our daughter.”
Sawyer glanced at the diamond ring on Shadow Moran’s hand. He didn’t see a wedding band, so... “Congratulations. I knew you before I left the Circle H. You were behind me, though, in school. What, three, four years?”
“Five.” Her dark eyes warmed. “At first, when I crossed the yard, I thought you were Logan—then I remembered he and Blossom are on their honeymoon.”
Ava gazed up at him. She looked like her mother except for her eyes, the color of Grey’s. “You and Logan are just the same.”
“Yes, we are,” he said, then pointed at the small scar by his right eye. “You can always tell me from him because of this.”
“How did you get it?”
“Doing something I shouldn’t have been doing.” He touched her shoulder, then turned back to Grey. He wondered why Grey was just now getting around to marrying Shadow, though it was none of his business. “Point me in the right direction. I did work the Circle H before Sam decided to run bison instead of cows, and I don’t think I’ve forgotten how to handle them.” He hoped not. “Nice-looking Black Angus you have, by the way.”
“Thanks, Sawyer.”
He had started toward one of the trucks to help unload when he stopped again. “Who stole these cattle, anyway?”
Shadow shifted in Grey’s embrace. Her mouth turned down. “My own brother—and two other men.”
“One of them a ranch hand of mine.” Grey kissed the top of her head. “The sheriff’s not happy with them, and they may still be in trouble with the law, but I refused to press charges. Shadow’s baby brother got off on the wrong foot in life. We’ll try to change that if we can.”
Sawyer was still digesting that when a car coming up the drive cut around several pickups and stock trailers, then braked to a stop right near him, spraying dirt everywhere. The cloud of dust choked Sawyer and he was coughing when Olivia got out. Eyes wide, she left her door flung open and charged up to him.
“Nick!” she managed to say, then pointed at the car.
In the dim light inside, Sawyer could see the boy leaned over in his seat, eyes closed, his body limp. Sawyer’s pulse jumped.
“I called the Circle H,” she said from behind him. “No answer at Doc’s or the walk-in clinic, either. Then I remembered everyone was here today and we were only minutes from Wilson Cattle, too. I hoped Doc had stopped by on his way to go fishing—”
“Why didn’t you head for Farrier General?” The ER there had Nick’s chart from the night before.
“It’s no closer today than it was last night.” She mentioned her visit to the antiques shop. “Frankly, I didn’t expect to find you here.”
“Yes, you did,” Sawyer murmured. He doubted she’d come in search of Doc, but he couldn’t blame her for saying that.
Olivia told him about Nick’s headache, which had obviously gotten worse since that morning when Sawyer had worried about it. He could see for himself how drowsy Nick was, if not in danger of slipping into a coma. He didn’t want to scare her, but this wasn’t good.
Last night, he’d hesitated to even approach Nick. He couldn’t stall now. “Olivia, stay with Shadow.” He glanced at his friend. “Grey, keep everyone away.”
The last thing he needed was a crowd. Sawyer hunkered down in the open doorway and reached into the car, checked Nick’s pulse, made sure his airway was clear, his heartbeat strong. This was the sort of basic triage care he’d practiced with the victims of the landslide, and as he performed the quick movements again, he didn’t need to think. To doubt himself. He only had to act—and do the right thing.
Finally, he turned to Olivia. “Get in,” he said.
She’d been standing with Grey, her brother’s arm around her, but hurried back to the car. “Is he—”
“Olivia, let’s go. I’ll drive.”
* * *
OLIVIA FELT COLD all over. If she didn’t keep a tight grip on herself, she would begin to shake and wouldn’t be able to stop. She clenched her jaw to not let her teeth chatter. She’d been sitting in the Farrier General waiting room again for what seemed like hours.
Shadow sat beside her. Grey had offered to come with them—insisted upon it—but Shadow had told him to stay behind for now. He had his returned cattle to oversee, and their daughter, Ava. They would keep him posted, and he could come to the hospital later. Olivia had hoped that wouldn’t be necessary, that Nick would be released as quickly as he was last night, but the staff members’ words so far didn’t reassure her.
She tried to think of something—anything—else to stay sane. Like her plans to trade in her car soon. She needed something bigger, maybe an SUV, to deliver purchases to her customers. But she couldn’t concentrate on that. Feeling anxious, she kept looking around but didn’t see Sawyer anywhere.
Shadow patted her arm, her voice low and soft. Her liquid dark eyes held Olivia’s gaze. “I’m sure one of the doctors will be out soon. They need to focus on Nick right now. Get him stabilized.”
Olivia nodded but only felt worse. “I’m a bad mother,” she said. “I should never have left the Circle H this morning.” She could feel hysteria rising inside her. The longer she sat here, even with Shadow for company, the more worried she got.
“You’re a wonderful mother,” Shadow insisted, tucking a strand of her long, dark hair behind one ear. “Far better than I was to Ava at times. He’s going to be all right, Olivia.” She peered down the hall, as if also searching for Sawyer. “Nick’s a tough little boy. He’s a fighter.”
“He’s also seven years old and small for his age—” She broke off. Shadow was right. Olivia wasn’t making sense. More than anyone else, she knew how strong-willed Nick could be. “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess.” Shadow was aware of how overly protective she’d been of him since the flood at the ranch. “I was making good progress,” Olivia said. “Now this. I can’t stand waiting.” She gestured at the Staff Only sign. “I want to charge through those doors—”
“Of course you do.” Shadow drew her close and gently pressed her head against her shoulder. “Try to relax. Deep breaths. I’ll tell you as soon as I see someone coming.”
Olivia wasn’t sure whether she meant a nurse, a doctor or Sawyer, or which one she should hope for.
* * *
“NICKY’S BACK IN the hospital?” Logan asked, sounding tense. Sawyer could hear the hum of the highway in the background, the blast of a horn from what sounded like a semi blowing past Logan’s car. “Why?”
He’d told Olivia he would call his brother, the last thing he’d said to her before he escaped the waiting room.
“He’s being admitted.” Sawyer tried to downplay the seriousness of the situation. He’d made a quick report to Olivia after first speaking with the doctors, but he didn’t know exactly how bad Nick’s condition was yet.
Sawyer had been pacing the hospital cafeteria for the past hour. He’d memorized every food item available, but the sight of bins of meatloaf with onions swimming in gravy, pale yellow corn and anemic-looking peas, limp french fries, and slices of lemon meringue pie turned his stomach. With every step, he’d been debating with himself. Rush back to the waiting room? Be there for Olivia, assuming she would want him by her side? Or—and he was leaning most strongly toward this option—hurry out to the parking lot and borrow her car? Get away from here? He could pick her up later or Shadow could drive her home. On the other hand...
He was licensed to practice in the state of Kansas. He’d gotten his degree, done his internship and residency here after he left the Circle H for good. And then, overseas, he’d failed in the most basic way when someone needed him most.
Nick is a different person, he told himself. Nick was his nephew, as Olivia had pointed out. But to Sawyer, that was splitting hairs. He didn’t have an affiliation with this hospital. You could study his chart, though. You could discuss his treatment plan. You could screw up again.
“What did the doctors say?” Logan was asking. “What do you think?”
Sawyer couldn’t answer. He didn’t want to admit he’d all but recused himself from the case, as he had every right to do. Nick was a close family member, and because of emotional involvement, Sawyer could opt out—as if he’d been asked to take part. But Logan was his only brother. Didn’t he owe him more than that? Wasn’t a nine-year absence from all their lives enough? If he couldn’t atone for Kedar, he should at least try to make up for that. And the other doctors were willing to talk to him as a professional. He could share his views. Although they had disagreed, he suspected Nick’s headache might be due to a hematoma. Had they since scanned his head?
“I’m turning around,” Logan said.
In the background, Sawyer heard Blossom agree. “We have to make sure Nick’s okay. Poor little guy...”
Of course they did. Sawyer didn’t try to dissuade them. Maybe by the time they got here, Nick would be out of danger and released again, and they’d all share in various expressions of relief sprinkled with laughter, as if they’d been foolish to even think he could be in real trouble. In any event, Sawyer knew Logan needed to see his boy for himself. “Drive safe,” he said.
After the call ended, he resumed his circuit of the cafeteria. The lemon pie’s meringue was starting to curl with beads of moisture glistening from the overhead lamp. The meatloaf’s gravy had congealed in its steel bin and... You’re a coward.
Sawyer made an about-face. What kind of brother, uncle, friend—ex-friend, to Olivia—was he? He’d been trying to protect himself to the point of being unable to protect a vulnerable child. Nothing new there, but not very admirable, either.
He marched toward the exit, out into the hall and down another back into the emergency department to collar Nick’s doctor. Even the well-known smells of antiseptic, of medications and of illness and fear, including his own, didn’t stop him.
Olivia was nearby, waiting. Reason enough.
She didn’t need him to treat her child, but she did need his knowledge.
Sawyer went to see about that scan.
CHAPTER FIVE (#u20209f12-4c6e-5617-aabb-2a854e3fc199)
“TELL ME,” Olivia said, rising from her seat as soon as Sawyer reentered the waiting area. While he’d been gone to call Logan and she’d been trying to hang on to her sanity, the small TV on the wall had kept playing the same video loop over and over again, informing any viewers about the most recent treatments for diabetes and elder incontinence. Olivia had been about to lose the rest of her mind. The only ailment she wanted to hear about was Nick’s. Leaving Shadow, she marched out into the hall with Sawyer following.
He ran a hand over the nape of his neck. “Try to be patient. The doctors are doing all that’s necessary, Olivia.” Sawyer focused on a point beyond her shoulder. “This is all I know right now—we’ve finally agreed that Nick has a hematoma.”
She felt her body drain of strength. “Sam also had a blood clot, or whatever,” she pointed out. “Didn’t he?”
“No. Well, as far as I know, he had a concussion. This is subdural.”
“What does that mean?”
Sawyer rubbed the back of his neck again. “I didn’t like the look of his pupils last night and this morning—”
“Then why didn’t you say something? Do something?”
“I’m not practicing right now. I’m not his primary physician. All I could do was make sure his head stayed elevated during the night in a midline position and that he remained responsive. Otherwise, I don’t make the decisions—for which you’re probably glad.” Sawyer’s explanation made her head spin, but he went on. “Nick’s initial score on the Coma Scale we use was around fourteen when Nick was sent home last night, meaning he didn’t need to be admitted. But today, as you know, his condition became worse.” He softened his tone. “He’s had a CT scan now, which they didn’t do last night. With kids, we worry about the radiation exposure, so we avoid CTs if their initial scores indicate only mild head trauma. As in a certain percentage of cases, he has a faint linear skull fracture and now, some brain swelling.”
Olivia shook her head to clear it. “Does that mean surgery?”
Sawyer cupped her elbow, as if he guessed she might faint. “I hope not. His other signs are pretty good. Unless the swelling gets worse, and fast, it’s likely a wait-and-see scenario. In lots of cases, the swelling goes down on its own. But I’ll talk to his doctors again later.”
She was shaking now, and she poked his chest with her index finger. “Your silence—your selfish silence—could have resulted in tragedy for Nick. It still might, from what I hear. You might not be his doctor, but you still could have said something last night, if you thought— And you haven’t even bothered to visit his room. All you can say now is that waiting’s just part of medicine?”
“Olivia, he’s getting good care. What else would you have me do?”
She glared. “Nothing, I suppose. Or no, maybe I should be grateful you didn’t intervene like years ago when—”
His mouth tightened. “Seriously? You want to bring that up now? Compare then, and a horse, to your own child? It’s not the same, Olivia.”
“I know it’s not. But you were guilty then. As far as I’m concerned, you’re guilty now—and this time it’s my son who has suffered.”
Sawyer’s blue eyes darkened. He seemed to collect his thoughts before he said, “Fine. You want to rehash the past? Okay, let’s. If you remember, years ago, yes, I challenged you to that race across a dry field littered with stones. There’d been no rain for weeks, but I had a sudden urge to fly like the wind. To hear you laugh,” he said. “I knew we shouldn’t, but it wasn’t like we hadn’t done it before. All of us.”
Her mouth turned down. Olivia didn’t welcome the memory, but she’d started this. And that day they had been alone, not with their brothers. By then, she and Sawyer had been seeing each other for about six months, their childhood friendship left behind for a new relationship that was turning into love...until her feelings for him had led to tragedy.
Her eyes filled with fresh tears, and he tried to reach for her hand but Olivia stepped back. She knew they were both picturing the same moment: galloping neck and neck until, suddenly, Jasmine had lurched, stumbled, then fallen, taking Olivia down with her. Reining his horse to an abrupt stop, Sawyer had jumped off, dropped to his knees to make sure she was all right. Bruised but unbroken, Olivia had already started to cry. It took Sawyer another second to realize how badly hurt her horse really was.
Her beautiful black mare lay on her side, breathing hard, her normally calm brown eyes wide with pain and fear before they rolled back in her head. Her left foreleg had been shattered by the fall.
“I’m sorry, Olivia. I should have known better. If I hadn’t argued with Sam again that morning, maybe I wouldn’t have suggested the race at all. But I did. And that’s no excuse. I’m not sure if I’ve told you before, but we were fighting about med school. About my being away from the Circle H so much. Sam wanted me there more often instead. I had so much anger then. Probably still d—”
“She died.” Olivia’s tone held the unshed tears that had filled her eyes, partly for the horse, partly now for Nick. Maybe—no, definitely—it was best that Sawyer hadn’t tried to treat Nick. “You didn’t even give her a chance. You shot her, right in front of me.”
“I put her down,” he said, and she bristled at the euphemism. “We were a mile from the ranch yard, the barn, probably an hour or more from the vet getting there. What else could I do?” He’d repeated the question he’d asked about Nick. “Like Logan, Grey and me, you’d been riding since you were two years old. You knew why I had that rifle with me, why any other rancher would have one, too. Warding off coyotes isn’t the only reason. There wasn’t time, Olivia.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Would you rather have watched her suffer?” Sawyer shook his head. “Jasmine broke her leg in about a hundred places. There was no putting her back together. Trying to reconstruct that foreleg would only have caused her more pain and wouldn’t have worked in the end. She’d have gone crazy shut up in a stall for weeks, maybe hurt herself again with the same result.”
She pressed her lips together, then said the words anyway. “Is that how you manage your human patients?”
Sawyer turned pale. “I’m not managing anyone. I told you that.”
He started to walk away, but Olivia went after him, grasping his arm and feeling the hard muscle under her fingers. His whole body was taut. Her voice trembled. “You just can’t say it, can you? That you were wrong—she might have survived—that you made a bad decision. That was my horse—the best horse I ever rode—a horse that could have been a national champion barrel racer.” She hadn’t ridden since, perhaps another reason she’d been against Nick getting Hero. “A horse I loved with all my heart. How am I supposed to forgive you for that?”
“You’re not.” He removed his arm from her grasp, then touched the corner of his right eye. Hysterical at seeing her horse destroyed, Olivia had struck out, cutting Sawyer with a ring she wore. “But if it makes you feel any better, I haven’t forgiven myself, either. I wish I’d had another option. I wish there was some way I could...make amends. Atone.”
He was halfway down the hall, and Olivia was still shaking, before the thought crossed her mind. He hadn’t just meant Jasmine. He hadn’t even meant Nick.
* * *
LIZA WILSON STEPPED out into the hallway of the pediatric neurosurgical wing. She’d gone in to visit Nick again until she could no longer blink back tears, so she’d finally left his room to get control of her emotions. Since his admission several days ago, she’d been running back and forth from Wilson Cattle to see him, but worry was never far from her mind. Liza didn’t have children of her own, and she’d taken a shine to Nick the instant they’d met.
The feeling seemed to be mutual, bless his heart. Which only made her worry more for his well-being. So far, surgery hadn’t been on the schedule and for that she felt grateful, but Nick wasn’t out of danger yet.
Understandably, Olivia was still a wreck, but she wasn’t inclined to lean on Liza, who had left her in the waiting area with Blossom, Logan and Everett. Liza knew Olivia liked her, yet they weren’t friends, much less stepmother and stepdaughter—family—except in legal terms. Neither Olivia nor Grey had fully accepted her, and Liza couldn’t blame them. As adults, perhaps they felt they didn’t need another mother, especially one who was only four years older than Olivia.
At thirty-six, Liza was twenty years younger than Everett Wilson. And his grown children already had a mother. A mostly absent one, Liza thought, but still... She might never be accepted, and the reality saddened her. The Interloper. Liza didn’t fit in here. But oh, she wanted to.
Halfway down the hall, she spied Sawyer and her opportunity to learn more about Nick’s condition. He was standing at a window that looked out onto the parking lot, his broad shoulders hunched, hands in his pockets.
Liza laid a hand on his forearm. “There you are.” Her pulse beat heavily. Why had he left the waiting room? Overcome, like her, by his feelings for Nick? Sawyer knew him less well than Liza did, not that that precluded concern. But, she realized, she hadn’t seen him in Nick’s room once. Had he just heard bad news? Or, no. Maybe he felt unwanted as she did. The Prodigal Brother.
“Hey, Liza.” Sawyer turned, forcing a smile. “I couldn’t take all the gloom and doom in there,” he said with a wave toward the waiting room. “Thought I’d catch some air, but no one opens windows here. The AC doesn’t cut it for me. Summer in the mountains of Kedar can be brutal, but here in Kansas...” Outside, heat and humidity shimmered off the pavement. Liza was used to that in Texas.
She couldn’t keep from asking. “What have you heard?”
“Nothing more. ‘Watchful waiting,’ his doctors say.”
“Do you agree?”
Sawyer glanced out at the blacktop. “They don’t need me to. I’m lucky to get a look at Nick’s chart now and then and try to read the scribbles. Olivia seems convinced I can read ‘doctorese,’ but that’s only my own. You’d think Farrier would have gone to electronic records by now, but handwriting’s closer to what I’m used to at my clinic. Or was,” he added.
“What do those scribbles tell you?”
“The brain swelling isn’t any worse—but it’s not that much better, either.”
“I see.” She’d been wrong. Apparently something hadn’t gone well between him and Olivia. If only her stepdaughter would let Liza hold and comfort her. Yet even in Nick’s room, standing together by his bed yesterday, Olivia had kept her distance and Liza had taken to seeing Nick alone or with Everett.
“I’m sure Olivia is grateful to you for staying close,” Sawyer said. “Grey told me he’s glad you and Everett decided to extend your visit.”
“Did he?” Her spirits brightened. Maybe Sawyer had noticed Olivia giving her the cold shoulder and was trying to comfort her. Liza had already seen that he was a sensitive person, one with a deep-seated pain he tried not to reveal to anyone else. “Grey’s a good man. Everett is proud of him.” So am I, she thought, though he probably didn’t want her approval.
Sawyer smiled without it reaching his eyes. “I hear Grey went through some hard times with the ranch, but he sure looks happy now. His cattle are back, and he’s engaged to Shadow. Guess there’ll be another wedding in your family soon.”
Liza couldn’t smile. My family. She wasn’t about to tell him that was a first for her, as if she truly belonged. She didn’t care to ponder her own painful past. “Everett and I eloped to Palm Springs. We had just the two of us and a pair of witnesses we tapped from among the other resort guests.”
“You didn’t want a big wedding here?”
Liza decided they were both sticking to safe topics. “No,” she said, not willing to mention that at the time Olivia had seemed to oppose the marriage, possibly wondering why her father needed to tie the knot a second time with someone so much younger than he was. Grey had said little and Liza had chalked that up to his usual reticence to talk about his feelings. Oh, they were both polite to her and included her in family events now, so maybe this would be a gradual thing, but Liza could always feel their reluctance to consider her a real part of the group.
Or was that her insecurity showing? “I was more than happy with a quiet ceremony and—” she added with a smile “—a good glass of wine to celebrate.”
“Grey tells me you also took a cruise for your honeymoon.”
Liza laughed at the memory. “Yes, would you believe? To the Galapagos on one of those expedition ships. As you can imagine and after living in a remote area yourself, it was quite a challenge—Everett’s idea. I always tell him he was hard to keep up with. I did enjoy seeing the unusual flora and fauna there. Thank goodness for my new hiking boots. And, of course, I loved just being with my new husband.” With Sawyer, she didn’t need to hide her love for Everett.
Sawyer glanced toward the waiting room. His eyes had turned from that compelling deep blue to indigo.
She touched his arm again. “Sawyer, what is it other than Nick? I know being home again after so long has its issues, but I’m sure Logan is pleased—”
“He tries hard not to show it.” He paused. “I almost wish he and Blossom had continued with their honeymoon.”
“But there’s something even more, isn’t there?”
He shrugged. “Nothing right now.” He turned away, as if casting about for a reason to leave. “Think I’ll try to get another look at Nick’s chart. The neurologist was here just before I stepped into the hall.”
Liza didn’t get the chance to say more. Sawyer kissed her cheek, and with what appeared to be a self-assured stride, he went back toward the nurses’ desk. Despite his show of confidence, he looked to her like another lost soul.
Like Liza.
* * *
SAWYER STAYED AT the hospital for as long as he could manage without coming out of his skin. He felt constantly torn between being there for Logan and Olivia, as if she wanted him, and the desire to flee before the very smells made him fall apart. Liza was in the waiting room again, too, and he didn’t want to continue their hallway conversation within earshot of Olivia. Frankly, his problems—here or in Kedar—were no one else’s cross to bear.
Sawyer had a hard enough time keeping his mind off Nick. Before he’d left today, he’d bought a teddy bear wearing a Superman costume and a big, encouraging grin in the gift shop, then left it with Olivia, whose murmured, if cool, “Thanks,” was the only word she spoke.
Nevertheless, it had conveyed the message: Sawyer should have delivered the stuffed bear himself instead of handing it off without ever stepping foot in Nick’s room. He shouldn’t have discussed the horse tragedy with her, either; revisiting that had only raised his self-doubt.
Feeling like a heel, he strode down the hall, then through the main lobby and outside to the truck—into a blast of summer heat. Knowing earlier that he wouldn’t be able to stick around too long, he’d borrowed a ranch pickup for the ride to Farrier General today.
Olivia would probably spend another night by Nick’s side, in a chair that supposedly turned into a bed. An uncomfortable one, he thought, her sleep interrupted if not by her worried thoughts, then by the constant stream of staff checking Nick’s vital signs, giving him medication or inspecting his IV lines.
Sawyer suppressed another twinge of guilt for escaping again, then got in, started the engine and sat there, letting the AC start to cool the interior, letting his pulse settle. He hadn’t put the truck in gear before his cell phone rang.
Sawyer tried to sound calm, in control, but his most recent talk with Nick’s doctors hadn’t eased his mind. Nick’s brain swelling was now worse. So was Sawyer’s approaching panic attack. Olivia was right to resent him for keeping his distance from her son, for not stepping up, just as she’d been right to blame him for Jasmine’s death, but Sawyer was having enough trouble holding himself together. She probably didn’t want him taking part in Nick’s care now.
“Hey, Charlie.”
At the other end of the line, Charles Banfield IV, a true Boston Brahman who’d attended Exeter and Harvard before meeting Sawyer at KU School of Medicine, launched into all the reasons why Sawyer should be in Kedar. Yesterday. He finished, “I’m doing what I can, but the twenty-hour days are taking their toll. I’ve lost ten pounds and I look like hell—so bad I’ve been avoiding the mirror when I shave.”
“Sorry, Charlie. I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Tell me you’re coming back.”
“I had the impression you didn’t want me there.”
Charlie ignored that. “The other day we had—I should say, I had—a dozen kids come in. There are no more hospital beds since the landslide leveled the infirmary. I haven’t had saline solution in over a week, so I can’t even hang IVs. Two women gave birth in the clinic last night. One of the babies, a preemie, sadly didn’t make it. And I’m still stitching up cuts, treating abrasions as well as I can without enough gauze, bandages, disinfectant...”
As Charlie trailed off, Sawyer remembered all too clearly the day he’d left Kedar as if he were being chased off the mountain by his demons. He’d left Charlie to handle everything in his absence, the one he wasn’t sure wouldn’t be permanent.
“I couldn’t stay there. Not after what happened to...Khalil,” he said. But now, after dealing with the clinic’s overload of desperate patients for a while, Charlie needed Sawyer, though he probably didn’t want to.
Was Olivia right? Had he made the wrong decision years ago with Jasmine, too? At least he hadn’t tried to manage Olivia’s son’s case.
Sawyer rubbed his neck. His pulse beat in his ears so loud he could hardly hear himself. His palms grew damp.
Charlie only said, “When are you coming back?”
Maybe I’m not. At the same time, Sawyer knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself unless he returned, made up for his mistake somehow. Still, he feared he couldn’t make the trip to the Himalayas again. Not yet. “How’s the road in?”
“Still blocked much of the way. Helicopters have been flying in whatever supplies are available. Sawyer, I know we had a pretty bad fight before you left. I apologize for anything I said that may have come across as, well, blameful. We’re still partners, aren’t we? The clinic needs you.” He hesitated, as if he hated having to say “So do I.”
Sawyer cleared his throat. Through the windshield, he watched a man walk out of the hospital, an arm around a crying woman’s shoulders. Then he saw Everett and Liza coming across the parking lot holding hands, and he fought an urge to slink down in his seat so as not to be seen. But if they were leaving, that was a good thing, right? Nick must still be holding his own. He didn’t want to talk to them, though.
“Listen, Charlie. I have to go.” Briefly, he filled him in about Nick. “I hope you can understand why I have to stay here awhile longer.”
“Of course.” But Charlie sounded disappointed. No, resigned.
“He’s close to...Khalil’s age.” And Sawyer hadn’t said five words to Nick. Why use him as an excuse?
But Charlie understood family. He was an only child whose parents, a Harvard archaeologist and a well-known pediatrician who headed her department at Boston Children’s Hospital, had left him to be raised mostly by nannies before shipping him off to boarding school when he was Nick’s age. He’d often spent his college breaks and summer vacations with other people’s families.
When they’d founded the clinic a few years ago, full of great plans to give back and make a difference in the world, Charlie had truly come alive. He’d found his passion. Before that, during his training, he’d met Piper, and they’d married and had two children. Sawyer had never seen a man take more readily to having a family of his own, as if to make up for his lonely childhood.
“I hate to let you down, Charlie. But I need more time.”
For a few minutes longer, they discussed Nick’s case as if they were together at the clinic, treating him rather than scores of needy people with more drastic conditions and worse prognoses. Struggling to cure diseases that couldn’t be cured in the end, performing surgeries that often failed to make the difference they’d hoped to make.
“How much time?” Charlie asked, his tone strained.
“I don’t know. I’ll keep in touch.” After he hung up, Sawyer wiped his damp hands on his jeans, then stared off into the distance.
An ambulance raced toward the ER entrance. A young couple, the wife holding what appeared to be a newborn baby, got into a waiting car, headed home to begin their family life together.
He seemed to be letting everyone down. Including—no, especially—Olivia. He could almost feel tonight’s nightmare coming on.
Where did he belong? Here, or there with Charlie?
Or in neither place?
Sitara, Kedar...last spring
THE EARTHQUAKE HAD come first. Without warning, the land began to shake, tremors shifting the simple huts of the village, sending people running into the street. The few two-story buildings swayed and windows shattered.
From his office at the clinic, which was shaking right along with the rest of Sitara, Sawyer watched it happen. There was little he could do. Such quakes happened now and then, more often than he cared to think about. People huddled together, babies cried, dogs and chickens ran for shelter.
After a minute or two, the quake subsided. Sawyer peered out the window but saw little damage. During the monsoon season after summer, he’d worry more about landslides, but in spring...
The thought hadn’t left his mind before he heard the rumble of sudden movement, and to his utter horror the whole side of the mountain that reared up at the end of the main street began to shift.
People looked up, screamed, then ran again, fleeing toward the clinic where he stood, waving their arms, looking back with their mouths open, gaping in terror.
Sawyer froze. In a wide swath of grayish-tan dirt and a gathering cloud of dust, rocks and boulders swept toward them, toward him, ripping trees out by the roots, consuming houses and sheds and farm animals like some giant hand clearing the green mountainside, the growing crops and anything else in its path. Like some monster, roaring like thunder. He would never get that sound out of his head.
Before he could move—but where to go?—some of the townspeople had swarmed into the waiting room of the clinic, weeping and moaning. Others hadn’t been as lucky; the landslide had buried them at the end of the street, sliding past the clinic but destroying the outbuilding that served as his and Charlie’s hospital. He knew the people inside would be crushed as the infirmary collapsed under the weight of rock and soil.
A woman rushed through the clinic door, one arm hanging, obviously broken. A compound fracture. He had to move, to help.
But shock had stunned him, and where was Khalil? After seeing him at the clinic earlier for a minor complaint, Sawyer had sent the boy back to school. Sawyer tried to move but couldn’t. He felt stuck, as if in cement or quicksand, and people were still yelling. Help us!
* * *
IN THE MIDDLE of the night, Sawyer jerked awake. He’d been dreaming, just as he’d expected he would, but the horrific images followed him into consciousness. He fell back against his pillow, sweating, remembering how he’d failed in Kedar.
CHAPTER SIX (#u20209f12-4c6e-5617-aabb-2a854e3fc199)
“UNCLE SAWYER BOUGHT me this?”
Two days later, after yet another brief scare that had taken ten more years off Olivia’s life, Nick was released from the hospital. To her vast relief, the edema in his brain had begun to resolve and his numbers had improved enough that he could be sent home—or rather to the Circle H.
Olivia drew a chair up beside his bed in the spare room. She and Nick would stay here until Logan and Sawyer felt satisfied that it was indeed safe for him to go home. His primary care doctor, Cyrus Baxter, was scheduled to make a house call tomorrow.
She tried to smile as Nick turned the Superman bear from Sawyer this way and that, examining its satin cape, then tracing a finger over its broad grin.
“Yes,” she said, trying to suppress a fresh wave of anger. She hadn’t seen Sawyer since they’d reached the house—hadn’t talked to him since that day at the hospital. Apparently he was still making himself scarce, sending gifts through someone else as if to show he cared.
“Why doesn’t he come to see me?”
“I don’t know, Nick. Maybe he’s busy helping Grandpa Sam.”
Sawyer wasn’t the only one among the missing. So was Clint. She’d enjoyed his company, but he hadn’t even called after Olivia first sent him the news of her son’s injury. Which said something about him, too.
“But Daddy’s here,” Nick said. “Uncle Sawyer doesn’t need to help.”
Olivia had no answer for that. She was surprised, to be honest, that Sawyer hadn’t already packed and left for—what had he called the place? Kebir? A few times, as she’d asked him to, Sawyer had talked to Nick’s doctors. He’d “translated” for Olivia. Then, after their talk about Jasmine, he’d relayed answers and she’d sent questions through Logan or Blossom. Even her father and Liza had delivered information to her. She hadn’t seen Sawyer again at Farrier General—not once.
Now she would have to. Nick was at the Circle H. So was Sawyer.
Olivia could feel thankful that her son was getting well. After hours of playing Minecraft with him, she was getting to be pretty good, but she felt exhausted. Her eyes had crossed from staring at the tablet screen all afternoon. “I’m glad you like your bear,” she said.
Nick considered for a moment. “But I don’t know if I like Uncle Sawyer.”
Neither do I, Olivia thought, which unfortunately didn’t seem to change the unwise attraction she still felt. She rose from her chair. “Why don’t you and your new friend take a nap? Grandpa Sam promised to come watch a movie with you after he feeds the horses. Your dad and Blossom are going to read a new book with you after dinner. Then maybe you can all watch a baseball game on TV tonight.”
Nick yawned. “Where are you going?”
“Downstairs,” she said, “to help Blossom with dinner.”
He gave her a sleepy grin. “You just don’t want to play Minecraft. Do you?”
“Tomorrow,” she said, then kissed the top of his head. “Rest, punkin.”
Her heart full, Olivia paused in the bedroom doorway to take a last peek at Nick, who had already snuggled into his pillows, the bear in his arms. For now, their potential move seemed far from his mind, and she’d loved their closeness today. As she shut the door behind her, she could hear him tell the stuffed animal, “I’ll take you to meet Hero as soon as I get out of bed.”
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Leigh Riker
He needs to stop running from his mistakes.Cowboy or doctor? Sawyer McCord has been wrestling with that question since he came home to the Circle H after fleeing his remote clinic in the Himalayas. A tragedy there has him doubting his medical skills, but his reception on the ranch has been chilly at best. Sawyer can't blame his family—or Olivia Wilson, his brother's ex—for their anger. So why does Olivia's opinion of him suddenly matter so much? Sawyer has unfinished business here and at his clinic. If he's ever going to redeem himself, he needs to start by making amends to the one woman who might never forgive him.
He needs to stop running from his mistakes.
Cowboy or doctor? Sawyer McCord has been wrestling with that question since he came home to the Circle H after fleeing his remote clinic in the Himalayas. A tragedy there has him doubting his medical skills, but his reception on the ranch has been chilly at best. Sawyer can’t blame his family—or Olivia Wilson, his brother’s ex—for their anger. So why does Olivia’s opinion of him suddenly matter so much? Sawyer has unfinished business here and at his clinic. If he’s ever going to redeem himself, he needs to start by making amends to the one woman who might never forgive him.
“Did you see, Mom? We almost cantered.”
Sawyer sent Olivia a look as he led Hero out of the corral, Nick still grinning.
“Not quite,” Sawyer assured her. “Hero’s got good gaits, but I doubt I could keep up with him at that pace.”
He wasn’t even breathing hard, and Olivia looked away from his shirt, which was now plastered to his shoulders, chest and flat abdomen. He was saving face for Nick so he wouldn’t feel as if he were on some pony ride at a summer fair. Of course he wanted to go fast. That was her son. Years ago, she had to admit, that would have been her, too, flying like the wind on Jasmine.
And that was, always, like Sawyer. His impulsiveness had cost Olivia her favorite horse. She found it hard to forget that when she was here at the Circle H... Yet watching him and Nick with the lovely gray gelding had made her heart ache in a good way. Here was Sawyer McCord, a cowboy again, though he’d turned his back on the ranch years ago.
Though he would probably leave again once more.
Dear Reader (#u20209f12-4c6e-5617-aabb-2a854e3fc199),
I’m so happy to bring you Cowboy on Call, this third book in my Kansas Cowboys series. Sawyer McCord is the bad boy of this group—I do love bad boys!—and he truly needs to find redemption.
In his defense, Sawyer hasn’t had an easy time of it. After losing his parents when he was eight, he and his twin brother, Logan (from book one, The Reluctant Rancher), were raised by their grandfather, Sam. But after Sam and Sawyer had a falling-out, Sawyer left home. Long estranged from his brother, too, he has a lot to make up for. And not only with his family.
Sawyer is also carrying a heavy load of guilt over another tragedy that happened far away. But coming home again can’t fix that, either. He’s in bad shape as a doctor and as a man, and Sawyer certainly doesn’t count on becoming a cowboy again—or meeting up with Olivia Wilson, the one true love of his life.
Divorced from Sawyer’s brother, Olivia is determined to be the best single mom she can be for their son, and the last thing she needs is to fall for Sawyer. He won’t stay long—just like before—and besides, they have a sad history.
I had a great time getting Sawyer and Olivia together, though it takes an unruly black colt to help get the job done. Ride ’em, cowboy!
I hope you enjoy Cowboy on Call. If you missed book one, The Reluctant Rancher, and/or Last Chance Cowboy, book two, they’re also available. And please visit my website, leighriker.com (http://www.leighriker.com), where you can also sign up for my newsletter.
As always, happy reading!
Leigh
Cowboy on Call
Leigh Riker
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
LEIGH RIKER, like so many dedicated readers, grew up with her nose in a book. This award-winning, USA TODAY bestselling author still can’t imagine a better way to spend her time than to curl up with a good romance novel—unless it’s to write one! She’s a member of the Authors Guild, Novelists, Inc., and Romance Writers of America. When not writing, she’s either out in the garden, indoors watching movies funny and sad, or traveling (for research purposes, of course). With added “help” from her mischievous cat, Daisy, she’s now working on a new novel. She loves to hear from readers. You can find Leigh on her website, leighriker.com (http://www.leighriker.com), on Facebook at leighrikerauthor (https://www.facebook.com/LeighRikerAuthor) and on Twitter, @lbrwriter (https://twitter.com/lbrwriter).
For Don
Still my favorite cowboy...happily-ever-after.
Contents
Cover (#u5ee707a4-0f9b-5444-8df7-2562adf54161)
Back Cover Text (#u2d864a64-fa1c-5710-9e2f-5620c9645d6b)
Introduction (#ufb9dc82e-2384-5ae6-b09e-1f588f6dda8c)
Dear Reader (#u48c5b954-ecf7-59ac-94e1-ac85137d35fb)
Title Page (#u5a36f7ed-24f2-57e6-9a2a-8554b39565c1)
About the Author (#u5ff511ad-8e06-5c9a-8600-b20136c4b600)
Dedication (#u1c47ce18-c012-598c-b42c-79953fca6e80)
CHAPTER ONE (#ub87ee0f7-4446-547b-8fcc-885ae85764ee)
CHAPTER TWO (#u5c8e166a-1539-54d7-8181-0b85614340a3)
CHAPTER THREE (#ua9f206d9-08a9-5080-aa09-8bbc5553200f)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u582d620e-9b45-5324-85a0-ab0a84a22a20)
CHAPTER FIVE (#uc3ef19b9-c6f5-5dac-8ef5-355e6a91a2b7)
CHAPTER SIX (#u4bf3e0eb-7d13-536f-92ef-9823aeb9e1ed)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINETEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u20209f12-4c6e-5617-aabb-2a854e3fc199)
OLIVIA WATCHED HER ex-husband dance with his bride.
From the deep shadows along the driveway, in view of the ranch house where she’d once lived at the Circle H, she watched other people join the bride and groom and listened to the soft strains of the ballad the band was playing. And felt her eyes fill. She always cried at weddings, but this reception held special significance.
Overhead the stars twinkled like ornaments just for this summer night. Strung through the nearby cottonwood trees, fairy lights winked as if someone had matched the two displays, heaven and earth.
She wasn’t really part of this. Olivia had been invited to the wedding earlier that day, but as Logan’s former wife, it had seemed inappropriate to accept the invitation and she’d skipped the ceremony.
Carrying a large box wrapped in white with a silver bow, she stopped here and there to say hello to someone but didn’t linger. She planned to leave her gift—a quilt in the classic wedding ring design from her antiques shop—collect her seven-year-old son, who’d been his dad’s ring bearer, then go home.
What’s done is done.
Three years after her divorce, Olivia bore no hard feelings. The bride looked lovely in her lace-trimmed gown and Olivia already liked her. After all, she was Nick’s stepmother now, and Olivia’s little boy adored Blossom. Besides, Olivia had finally made her peace with Logan, her ex.
If she felt slightly left out tonight, that was her problem.
She’d had her turn and blown it. Olivia had always half expected her marriage to disintegrate as her parents’ had, and like some self-fulfilling prophecy, she now had the papers to prove it. Love clearly wasn’t her strong suit—except her maternal love for Nick. In that, she could be as fierce as a mother tiger, and Olivia intended to be the best single mom on the planet. On her own again, she worked hard to provide the emotional security for him—the stability—that she’d never known.
She could handle feeling invisible; she’d had a lifetime of experience at it.
Taking her gift toward the house, she spotted her brother in the crowd but didn’t get the chance to talk to him. Before she took another step, Olivia noticed yet another man crossing the lawn. And froze. At first, she thought he was Logan, that he’d changed from his khakis and navy blue blazer with the yellow pocket square to jeans with his white shirt. But it wasn’t Logan.
After nine years, her ex-husband’s twin brother was back.
Sawyer McCord.
Olivia turned then went the other way.
* * *
THE HEELS OF Sawyer’s new cowboy boots sank into the grass, forcing him to slow his steps before he reached the large gathering of wedding guests.
He was late. Later than late, actually. He’d almost missed the whole thing. He’d been lucky to make it at all and he could tell the reception was already half-over.
With varying degrees of skill, half a dozen couples gyrated on the temporary wooden dance floor in the middle of the lawn to a fast tune. Classic rock, which the band had just launched into after the bride and groom’s first dance. The cork from a fresh bottle of champagne popped loud enough to be heard over the music.
Sawyer glanced around but didn’t see his brother. Maybe just as well.
He wasn’t sure of the welcome he’d get. Weeks before, Logan had asked him to be his best man, but his brother’s email and some missed follow-up calls hadn’t caught Sawyer’s attention until recently. In the small, far-off country where he spent most of his time these days, he’d had his hands full. He wondered if the epic landslide in Kedar and its aftermath would strike Logan as reasonable excuses not to show up until now.
He scanned the yard again, recognizing a high school friend here, a longtime neighbor there. No one had seen him yet.
Or...had she?
His heart sank into the ground like his boot heels. Olivia. But almost before their gazes met, she looked away.
Wouldn’t you know she’d be the first person he saw?
Maybe he shouldn’t have come at all.
Hoping to buy a little more time before he faced Logan, Sawyer halted steps away from the milling group of wedding guests—and saw his grandfather coming toward him with a slight limp.
“Well, I’ll be. Sawyer McCord.” Sam studied him, then looked down at his own navy blue jacket and the white rose boutonniere in his lapel. “Wouldn’t be shocked if you didn’t recognize me in this getup. But what happened to you?”
“Guess like Indiana Jones, ‘it’s not the years, it’s the mileage.’”
In the past few weeks, while dealing with so much death and destruction, Sawyer had probably aged ten years. He hoped that didn’t show, but it probably did.
Sam had changed, too. His still-thick hair had a few more gray strands among the dark brown, and there were lines in his face Sawyer hadn’t seen before. But his blue eyes had stayed as sharp as ever and he was still whipcord lean. “When you were kids, no one could tell you apart from Logan.”
“They will now,” Sawyer said.
Sam’s voice hardened. “About time you showed up.”
“I would have come sooner, but...” He trailed off.
He didn’t want to think about, or remember, his final screwup thousands of miles from here. The clinic he’d cofounded with his partner in Kedar was always in danger of attack from rival tribes, but bullets and bombs weren’t the only means of devastation there. That huge landslide had brought half the mountain down, isolated the village and destroyed more lives than it should have. The disaster had tested his skills to repair, to heal, to save. And despite his lifelong urge to always step in, to help, Sawyer had failed. Was he as good a doctor as he’d believed he was, or—in violation of his Hippocratic oath—had he done more harm than good?
He tried to quiet his unruly thoughts. “How’s your leg, Sam?” According to Logan, a few months ago Sam had been thrown by one of his bison cows that took offense to him getting too close to her calf. Now, Sam’s cast was obviously off but his muscles must still be weak, even withered. At his age, full recovery would take time.
Sam was tough, though. “Good enough,” he said.
Sawyer could almost hear someone say, Go on, you two. At least slug each other on the arm as men do to show affection.
But he was afraid to move. Sam didn’t, either. They hadn’t parted on good terms, to put it mildly. Over the years since Sawyer had left the Circle H instead of taking over the ranch, finished medical school, then based his practice overseas, they hadn’t exchanged a single word. If Sam or Logan—or Olivia—had read about the landslide in the papers or online or seen the coverage on TV, they wouldn’t have known he was there. And although he’d felt tempted to let them know he, at least, was unharmed, Sawyer hadn’t tried to get in touch. He wouldn’t worry them. There was nothing they could have done, except worry.
Sam continued to study him. “Never thought I’d see you again. Don’t know if my heart’s up to the shock.”
Sawyer’s throat tightened but he didn’t say the words. I love you, too, Pops. Maybe he no longer had the right to call him that. He wasn’t sure Sam or the others cared about him anymore. His fault.
Without another word, his grandfather stomped back across the lawn to join a group of other ranchers and their wives. A moment later, his laughter floated on the warm night air to Sawyer, excluding him. He hadn’t been here twenty minutes and he was already in trouble with Sam. Nothing new.
He looked toward the spot where Olivia had been standing moments ago. In a wisp of filmy skirt and a silken swirl of blond hair, she was gone. He hadn’t missed the look in her eyes, though. She was no happier to see him than Sam seemed to be.
He squared his shoulders, then plunged into the crowd, greeting former friends he hadn’t seen in years. People, like Olivia and Sam, he’d never thought he’d see again.
* * *
THE LOUD MUSIC—the band played hard rock almost exclusively as the night wore on—made Olivia’s head hurt. Sipping at her single glass of champagne, which she didn’t really care for, she stayed on the fringe of the festivities, counting the minutes before she could leave. Avoiding Sawyer. Avoiding her father.
He and her stepmother had arrived from Dallas only that morning, her brother had told her. While she was glad her father had found a better life with Liza, she didn’t want to talk to him. Or to her, either.
Olivia was still here only because Nick had balked at leaving.
“I’m having fun!” he’d shouted. Then he’d run off again with his new best friend, headed for the refreshment tables.
Olivia had left her gift in the ranch house, and she wished she could go home now. Other people were beginning to drift toward the makeshift parking lot on the far side of the yard, the hard packed dirt area beyond the grass that led to Logan’s barn. She heard laughter, talk of some upcoming doings in town, a promise here and there to get together soon.
“Are you hiding?” Sawyer’s familiar voice snapped Olivia to attention. “I never thought of you as a wallflower. Yet here you are, keeping away from everyone. Or someone,” he added, obviously meaning himself.
She looked away. “I’m about to leave. It’s way past Nick’s bedtime.”
“Your son,” he said.
She nodded. “Your nephew. The one you’ve never met.”
That didn’t surprise Olivia. Sawyer had cut and run long ago, and he hadn’t come back—until now. Which reminded her of Nick’s mostly absent grandfather. Her dad hadn’t seen her son in a year. Nick was far closer to Sam Hunter, not that she would keep Nick from her father if he ever decided to play devoted grandpa at last.
She fought an urge to squirm. Seeing Sawyer appear so suddenly again had been a shock, but she hadn’t confused him with Logan for more than a second. Olivia had always been able to tell the twins apart when most people couldn’t. They had the same dark hair and deep blue eyes and almost identical builds, yet Olivia could see subtle differences. Their physical resemblance was strong but, for her, superficial.
Logan, who’d become a professional test pilot, was steady and calm; Sawyer was more intense and impulsive. She couldn’t deny he was an attractive man, to put it mildly, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him again, and Olivia wasn’t in the mood for a heart-to-heart chat—or anything else.
She searched for Nick, then spotted him marching around the yard carrying a big piece of cake in a napkin. The band launched into yet another earsplitting tune and Olivia took a step. “I’d better go.”
Sawyer stopped her. “So this is how it will be, Olivia? Come on, I’ve already been stiffed by Sam. Haven’t talked to Logan yet. Why not spare me a minute here? It’s been a long time. Tell me how you’ve been since...the last time I saw you.”
“Fine,” she said. Her personal life was certainly none of his concern. Never mind that they’d once been friends. That had ended a long time ago in a field between the Circle H and Wilson Cattle, her family’s ranch next door. “In fact, I’ve just heard about a possible opportunity to expand my antiques business. There’s another store on the way to Wichita that I’ve been interested in for some time. The owner plans to retire.” She bit her lip not to ask Sawyer about his life. They weren’t friends anymore.
He looked past her toward Nick. “Which would mean a move? Away from Barren?” He knew she wasn’t fond of the Circle H, in part because of him.
“Possibly. I haven’t thought that far yet,” she admitted. “I’d probably want to be near both shops. There’s a nice little town halfway between there and Barren, so I’d have an easy commute each way. I’ve heard good things about their elementary school. By September, when Nick starts second grade, maybe I’ll be ready to move.”
Olivia hadn’t said the last word before Nick rushed up to them with his friend Ava, Olivia’s niece. The two had gradually come closer but Olivia hadn’t noticed. His deep blue eyes, so like his father’s and Sawyer’s, flashed. “No!” he yelled, making Olivia’s ears quiver.
“Nick—”
“I won’t leave the Circle H! I’ll stay here with Daddy!” Then he pulled Ava across the yard, through half a dozen cars in the parking area and they raced toward the barn. “I’m going to see my kitten!”
The blood drained from Olivia’s face. “I didn’t realize he could hear us. I haven’t talked with him yet or made a firm decision.”
“He had a point, though. And what would Logan say?”
“He won’t want us to leave town, but...” She watched the children disappear into the barn and stifled the need to go after them. “I didn’t mean to upset Nick. I’ll give him a bit of time, then talk to him.” She hesitated. “But I have to think about my business, too. Our means of support.”
“Olivia.”
Determined to avoid any more talk with Sawyer, she left him standing there and started toward a small group of other guests gathered near the porch. On the front steps, Blossom held her bridal bouquet aloft. An excited bunch of younger women were waving their arms, hoping to catch the spray of white roses, baby’s breath and calla lilies and be the next to marry.
After she’d made the toss, Blossom came down the steps, her gait somewhat impeded by her gown and her obvious pregnancy. Her unhappy previous relationship was behind her now. This baby, although not hers with Logan, would be born into love, would be cherished...as Olivia cherished Nick.
Blossom said, “Thank you for the gorgeous quilt.”
“My pleasure. Best wishes.”
Olivia said goodbye to Blossom, then started toward the barn. She was halfway there when nine-year-old Ava burst outside and tore up the hill, her eyes wide as she barreled into Olivia.
She caught the little girl’s shoulders. “What is it, Ava?”
Breathless, she could hardly speak. “Nick! He fell. I think he’s dead!”
CHAPTER TWO (#u20209f12-4c6e-5617-aabb-2a854e3fc199)
SAWYER HAD FINALLY found a chance to speak to Logan. They had just started to talk, when a little girl he didn’t recognize shot out of the barn, waving her arms and shouting. Halfway up the hill, she ran straight into Olivia, and Sawyer watched Olivia’s face turn white.
Logan was already running toward them. “Nicky!” he yelled. “Nicky!”
As if his boots were glued to the spot, Sawyer stayed where he was. For a guy who’d always responded to any crisis stat, who’d studied and interned, done his residency and practiced medicine under the worst trauma conditions, he couldn’t seem to move.
Nicky. His nephew’s name alone should have galvanized Sawyer but didn’t. He heard the girl’s words echo, sounding thick inside his head, as if both ears were plugged. Dead.
A dozen images of disaster flashed in his mind. A man pulled from the rubble, one of his arms crushed. A pregnant woman, her cuts and scrapes ignored as she went into labor on the hard, rock-strewn ground, moaning in pain. A precious child...
From behind him, Blossom loped across the lawn, holding up her bridal skirts, then passed him by. Several other late-leaving wedding guests rushed with her to the barn.
And still he didn’t move.
After a long moment, he realized Olivia hadn’t, either. With one hand over her mouth, her blue eyes wide circles of fear, she stood there, frozen like some ice statue. The little girl clung now to her skirt.
“Stay here,” he said, finally forcing his legs into motion. On his way past, he lightly touched Olivia’s shoulder. “Let me check out the situation.”
She didn’t answer. Pulse thumping, he left her and, like some caboose at the end of a train when he was used to being the steam engine, followed the last people into the barn.
He couldn’t see through the circle of wedding guests in the aisle, their bodies blocking his view.
“Move back. I’m a doctor,” he said but in a weak tone.
Logan was the last person to obey his order. He’d been down on one knee, bending helplessly over his little boy. Sawyer felt the same way. Those other images kept running through his brain.
He pushed the memories aside. “Let me see, Logan.”
Logan didn’t have a trace of color left in his face. He got up but his gaze didn’t leave his son.
Sawyer’s nephew—the small blond boy he’d never seen in person until tonight—lay half-conscious, sprawled on his back on the barn floor. His skin gray, his eyes closed, he looked almost peaceful.
Sawyer assessed his condition—airway, breathing, circulation. He preferred the few photos he’d seen of Nick, his birth announcement with a newborn picture attached to the email, the baby looking as if he were already able to smile, and later a first-birthday party shot of him in his high chair. Happy times in which he’d had pink cheeks and bright eyes.
He felt Nick’s fine-boned wrist again for a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief. “Light,” he said, adding silently, and a bit thready. He didn’t want to worry people.
Blossom drew Logan close. He rested his forehead against hers. “Thank God.”
His hand shaking, Sawyer raised each of Nick’s eyelids to assess his pupils. He didn’t like the look of them. “Come on, Nick. Talk to me. Squeeze my hand.”
Show me something here. Though he knew Nick was still alive, the word dead kept spinning through his mind, reminding him of that other child who, because of Sawyer, wasn’t breathing any more. He examined the boy’s legs, his arms, searching for fractures.
“No obvious breaks,” he said, turning to Logan. Sawyer wouldn’t mention a possible skull fracture. Nick needed a more thorough assessment than he could provide here, and he was no neurologist.
The little girl who’d called for help had entered the barn with a woman who must be her mother. She was vaguely familiar, but his focus stayed on Nick.
Without glancing at her again, Sawyer asked the girl, “What happened here?”
Her voice quavered. “Nick was mad at his mom. We came to the barn. I thought we were going to see the kitten, but Nick climbed the ladder to the hayloft instead. He told me to go away.” She began to cry. “I didn’t see how it happened. But he fell.”
Sawyer patted Nick’s cheek to stimulate him. He heard a shuffle in the aisle. A couple of people shifted to let her through, and Olivia was finally there, moving like someone in a bad dream.
Sawyer said, “He must have hit his head pretty hard. He’ll need a neuro consult, but first...” He looked around. “Where’s Doc?” he asked, referring to the local physician who’d treated Sawyer as a kid. There weren’t many choices in Barren, and Sawyer supposed he was Nick’s doctor now. “I saw him earlier at the reception.”
“He went home,” Blossom murmured.
“You’re here,” he heard Olivia say in a firmer tone than he might have expected. Or no, it was exactly what he expected. It was almost an accusation, and another memory assailed him. Sawyer and Olivia, racing their horses across that nearby field until...he hadn’t yelled a warning in time. Did she think of him now as a last resort?
His stomach heaved. I can’t do this, especially for my brother’s kid. If I can’t trust my judgment, what use would I be? Once, he’d exuded confidence with what had amounted to a typical god complex. Kedar had changed that.
Sam hurried into the barn carrying a neck collar to stabilize Nick for transport. “Got this after I tangled with that cow. I called an ambulance.”
“Won’t get here soon enough. He needs to go now.” The collar was too big but Sawyer made a few adjustments. It would do.
He studied his brother and Blossom. He felt as helpless as they looked, even though he was the one who’d gone to med school. He’d practiced in a foreign country, often without proper medical supplies and equipment, especially in those days after the landslide when Sawyer’s sense of powerlessness had finally overwhelmed him. He felt the same way now.
He glanced at the open barn doors, seeking escape.
* * *
THE COMPLEX OF buildings at Farrier General Hospital squatted just off the highway in the next town from Barren. Olivia hadn’t been here in three years, since her marriage had ended after the spring flood when Nick almost died from pneumonia. Every smell reminded her of that night she’d nearly lost him.
Her nerves on edge, Olivia gazed down the hall again but didn’t see a familiar form approaching. For the past few months Olivia had been seeing another antiques dealer from Kansas City, and she would have welcomed his presence now. But so far, Clint was nowhere to be seen. She’d left him a message about Nick, but she certainly didn’t feel Clint’s support.
Earlier, she had gone into Nick’s ER cubicle with Logan, concerned for their son’s welfare, together in a new show of unity. Blossom had stayed in the waiting room where they joined her now while Nick was having tests. Logan was still pale and Olivia imagined she must appear chalk-white herself.
“I’m sorry your honeymoon is delayed,” she said for want of something else to say.
Nick had been taken to the imaging center and Olivia tried not to imagine the worst again. At least he’d fully wakened in Logan’s truck before the rush with Sawyer to Farrier. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? She wished Sawyer would come back to the waiting room with a report for them.
“We can take a honeymoon anytime.” Logan reached for her hand to still Olivia’s constant fussing. “Try not to worry, Libby. I know how you are.”
“As if you aren’t just as worried.”
“Does it show?” Like someone who had wandered in from some production of a play and was still in costume, Logan was wearing his wedding clothes. A few grains of rice dotted the shoulders and lapels of his navy blue blazer. He’d long ago given his yellow pocket square to Blossom who, in a chair opposite, was crying softly into her hands.
“It shows,” Olivia said. She glanced toward the elevators. Still no sign of Clint. Maybe she’d been right that even dabbling in the dating scene again was a bad idea. “Of course it shows. What’s taking so long?”
“Don’t ask me.” He looked at her. “Reminds you of the flood, doesn’t it? Being trapped at the ranch? I feel as helpless now as I did then.”
Olivia shuddered. Nick’s temperature had kept spiking higher, and she and Sam hadn’t been able to get it down even with cool baths. “I thought you’d never get there.”
He arched an eyebrow. When the waters started rising at the Circle H, Logan had been in Wichita for his job as a test pilot for a small manufacturer of private jets. Now he was a rancher again, though she wondered if that would last. “Lucky we did. After I reached your brother’s place, we rode cross-country in the pitch-black, praying our horses wouldn’t run into a barbed wire fence we couldn’t see.” That only reminded her of the horse she’d lost in that same field. “I’m still sorry, Olivia, that I wasn’t there for you sooner.”
Briefly, she leaned her head against his shoulder. “You came,” she said. “That’s all that mattered.” And at one time, she’d thought he was everything she needed. “I shouldn’t have spent so much time blaming you.” Three years, she thought, until this past spring.
She straightened, her heart tripping. Sawyer was coming down the hall toward them at last. She couldn’t tell from his face what, if anything, he’d learned.
Logan shot to his feet. “Well?”
Sawyer put out both hands, palms down. “Relax. He’s okay. No real damage.”
“Then why aren’t you smiling?” Olivia asked.
Sawyer seemed not to hear her. “He doesn’t quite know what happened at the barn but that’s nothing to worry about. He’ll remember. His pupils are equal and reactive now...”
Logan shook his head. “That reminds me of Sam. While he still had his cast on, he decided to take a horseback ride, prove he was fine—and fell in that same barn aisle. He still has some residual effects from his concussion.”
“He had two falls? All I ever heard was he’d broken his leg.”
“Maybe you should check in more often,” Logan muttered.
Obviously, their reunion hadn’t gone well, but she’d picked up on something that mattered even more to her. He’d said no real damage. “What’s wrong, Sawyer?”
“Probably nothing, just me feeling twitchy.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “The hospital wouldn’t send him home if they thought he wasn’t okay. They’re going to release him tonight...into my care.”
He didn’t seem to want that responsibility, and Olivia wondered why. Although he’d finally come with them to the hospital, she’d resented his hesitation at first. True, he didn’t know Nick very well—in fact, not at all—but did he not like children? Or was he holding a grudge? He and Logan hadn’t been close for a number of years, but that couldn’t be all. As a doctor, Sawyer was bound by an oath to treat those who needed him.
Had he been reluctant to help Nick because of her?
Because his “help” years ago had only led to tragedy for Olivia.
* * *
HOURS LATER, at the ranch, Olivia and Logan settled Nick into bed upstairs while Sawyer paced the family room. If he were the admitting physician at Farrier General, Nick would be in a room there overnight under observation. Or was Sawyer still in panic mode?
All he could think of was another pending disaster. The wrong diagnosis. Something Sawyer had missed at his clinic with someone else’s child. Those nightmares haunted him every night and sometimes during the day until his hands shook and his heart beat like thunder.
If he had to diagnose himself, he’d say post-traumatic stress disorder. PTSD, like a soldier after battle, which in a way he supposed he was. Certainly the long hours, the deprivations, the constant stream of crises coming through the clinic door after the landslide should qualify as traumatic. For sure, his error in judgment did.
And then, as if he needed more, there was Olivia. Being back had already made clear her ongoing mistrust of him. Earlier, she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
He turned to make another circuit of the room. The house, the yard, were quiet. The reception was long over. The caterers had packed up and left, and not a single car remained in the makeshift parking area. The nearby kitchen looked immaculate. The neatness all around should have calmed him, its sense of order and all the trappings of civilization.
What could happen here? But of course, he knew, and not only because of Nick. Because of Olivia.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs and, before Sawyer could finish his thought, Logan walked into the room. He’d ditched his blazer and tie and rolled up his white shirtsleeves.
“He asleep?” Sawyer asked.
“Drifting in and out, I think.”
Olivia had wanted to take Nick home to their house in Barren, to his own bed for the night, but Logan wouldn’t hear of that. Olivia would stay here with Nick, and the newlyweds would spend their first night of marriage on the Circle H, close enough to make sure Nick was okay before they even thought about leaving on their honeymoon. And perhaps most important, this was where Sawyer would be staying. He was supposedly in charge for the night. Nick had been released only because a doctor would be present.
His palms began to sweat. And as he’d expected earlier, his brother wasn’t happy with him. Nick’s accident had only delayed their talk.
“I appreciate you finally coming back,” Logan said. “Even if you didn’t make it in time to be my best man. But I’m still mad.”
“Because I showed up late? I’m sorry, but I’m here now.” His brother appeared a lot calmer than Sawyer felt. His reluctance to explain himself warred with his longing to reconnect with his twin. He wanted to hear Logan call him Tom again, as he used to do, a teasing play on his name.
“Hell, Sawyer, you didn’t even bother to answer my calls.”
Okay, he could give Logan this much. “I run a clinic in a remote area. You can’t imagine how remote. I bet you’ve never heard of Kedar. In the heart of the Himalayas, the highest, most rugged mountains on earth. You think the Circle H can be hard to get to?”
“Hard enough,” Logan murmured. “Three years ago, we nearly lost Nick right here when a spring flood blocked the roads to town and washed out the driveway. He and Olivia were stuck, trapped, in fact—I wasn’t home—and Nick was very sick.”
“I didn’t know.”
“If Grey and I hadn’t forged our way from Wilson Cattle over the hill on horseback, he could have died of pneumonia. So yeah, I know hard.”
“Maybe so, but those people I work with have very little. To them, the Circle H would seem like paradise—except they love those mountains. Even my sat phone doesn’t always work there.” He added, “If it did, I would have called you back.” Yet his phone had been working fine before the landslide; his cell, too, most of the time. “I imagine Grey Wilson must have done a good job as best man in my place.”
“He did. But how would I know about your sat phone—or anything else? Sawyer, the last time I talked to you, about Sam’s accident, all I got was ‘I’m here and there, doing this and that.’ That was months ago. And then there was your silence about the wedding. We’re brothers. Why didn’t you tell me where you were? What you were doing?”
Sawyer took the verbal lashing. He had been secretive about his clinic, about his life there. For one thing, Sam wouldn’t have approved. For another, Sawyer’s decision to leave the Circle H—in part because of his feelings for Olivia—had been immature, and though he didn’t regret opening the clinic, he was sorry for the way he’d left things at home. Not sharing much about Kedar had been a way to avoid dealing with how he’d treated his family. He wasn’t proud of running out on them, but it was obviously his MO.
Logan wasn’t finished. “After Mom and Dad died, you and I were never apart for more than a day or two until you left here for good. Left me with the Circle H,” Logan said. “And that’s all I get from you now? Some weak excuse? I mean, what’s the point of living in a place like you describe?”
“I like to help people. I don’t belong here anymore.”
“What are you, really? Special Ops—and you don’t want us to know? A spy?”
He didn’t smile. “I’m just a doctor.” Or I was. He wouldn’t elaborate. If Logan couldn’t accept his apology for nearly missing his wedding day, he could live with that. He had a bigger guilt to wrestle with—and that was on him alone. He wasn’t about to share. “Listen. Just as you asked, I’ll stay with Sam while you and Blossom take your honeymoon. I hope you have a great time.” He held his breath. “We okay, then?”
Logan shrugged. “I’ll see how you do while I’m gone. Think I’ll try to get some sleep,” he said, then turned and went up the stairs.
Sawyer let out a sigh. But he wasn’t alone for long. Logan had no sooner disappeared than Olivia came down the steps. She looked wan, exhausted, and Sawyer didn’t want to face her, not after their earlier conversation.
“You look beat. You can have my room, Olivia.” The words sounded strange to him. Sawyer hadn’t slept there in over nine years, but the wallpaper, the bedspread, the pictures on the desk were still the same. He’d left that room, this ranch, behind a few days after Olivia married his brother.
He tried a half smile. “I’ll take my pillow, though, if you don’t mind. Took me a long time to get that punched down just the way I like it. I’ve missed that.” Missed you, he thought, but he could never say so and certainly she didn’t feel the same way about him.
Olivia cleared her throat. “Fine. Or I could take this sofa.”
“Wouldn’t hear of it. You need a good night’s rest.”
“You don’t?”
“I’ll need to check on Nick periodically.” He already dreaded that. The boy wasn’t his responsibility and yet tonight he was. Being near Nick made him more than uncomfortable, afraid he’d do something wrong again, maybe with catastrophic results. Yet he owed Olivia—and had for years.
“Thank you, Sawyer.” The sound of his name from her lips made every muscle in his body tense. “This certainly isn’t a holiday for you. Leaving your busy practice, coming back for Logan...ending up with another case on your hands.”
“For tonight.” For you, he thought. He paused. “I’m not really practicing medicine now. While I’m here to help out at the Circle H, I’ll need to make some decisions about my future.”
“You wouldn’t go back? To wherever you’ve been?”
Sawyer hesitated, then mumbled something vague about Kedar. Their friendship had ended, she’d married his twin brother instead...and Sawyer hadn’t been the same since.
“Don’t know,” he said. “Don’t need to know right now.”
Olivia glanced down at the rug, then up again. Her eyes held his. “There must be some reason for your indecision.” She waved a hand as if she were indicating his clinic, which seemed unlikely. She didn’t know about what had happened there.
Sawyer had told Logan enough for one night. He wouldn’t enlighten Olivia. No one else had to know about his mistake—not this far removed from the clinic, and certainly not at the Circle H, where he’d experienced the other two worst moments of his life. Losing both his parents at once and, later, driving Olivia away.
Anyway, he wouldn’t be able to get the words out without crumbling into pieces. Olivia was the last person he’d confide in. He couldn’t risk showing her his weakness, which would only reaffirm what she must still think of him.
“I need to check on Nick,” he said and started for the stairs.
CHAPTER THREE (#u20209f12-4c6e-5617-aabb-2a854e3fc199)
BY THE NEXT MORNING, Nick seemed much better. Olivia was not. Although she felt relieved about her son, a glimpse in the bathroom mirror had showed her a too-pale woman with dark shadows under her eyes. At the kitchen table, she sipped coffee and made plans to leave the Circle H as soon as Nick finished his cereal.
His face had color again and he continued to shovel in his breakfast as if he might never see another meal. Sometimes he astonished Olivia with the amount of food he could take in, which should have eased her mind. Her growing boy.
“Eat up, punkin. We need to go. I have an appointment out of town today.”
Nick spoke around a mouthful of Cheerios. “Who’s going to watch me?”
With school out for the summer, she’d have to rely on her usual babysitter, but in last night’s chaos she had forgotten to double-check. “Susie,” she said.
Olivia yawned. She hadn’t slept well in Sawyer’s bed, imagining his scent in the room, surrounded by the trappings of his younger life. And worried about Nick, she’d only dozed, waking with a start each time to wonder if he was okay.
Once in the night, she’d met Logan in the hall with the same intent to see their son, and another time she’d nearly run into Sawyer. Her mind foggy, Olivia had hurried back to her room.
“Why can’t I stay here today?” Nick asked, nearly knocking over his orange juice. “I could ride Hero.”
His new horse was a bone of contention for Olivia, who hadn’t been consulted before Logan bought the gelding. She’d been working on becoming less protective of Nick but had a hard time keeping her mouth shut about this. Logan argued he’d rather see their boy on a steady mount than trying to handle one of the other, sometimes unpredictable, horses already in the Circle H stables. He was too big now for a pony.
She had to admit the gentle gray gelding with a showy black mane and tail took good care of Nick. She shouldn’t worry, not about that at least.
“No Hero today for you.” Logan had appeared in the kitchen doorway, and Olivia appreciated the backup despite wondering how long their united front would last. “Nicky, that’s not a good idea. Grandpa Sam will set you up with the TV instead. You can watch a movie, play a video game...”
Nick gave him an assessing look. “Daddy, I want to ride.”
Logan smiled at Blossom, who had joined him in the doorway. They both wore a visible glow this morning. He caught Olivia staring at them.
“A different wedding night than we’d planned,” he admitted. “We both passed out as soon as our heads hit the pillows. We’ll be talking about that for years.” On his way by, Logan ruffled Nick’s hair then headed for the coffee maker. “I know you’re feeling better, but you took quite a spill last night. Hero can wait for a few days. Okay?”
Nick didn’t answer. He crunched more cereal. Obviously unhappy, he refused to look at Logan, and Olivia saw the little frown between his brows that, in such a young face, always clutched at her heart. She set aside her coffee cup, then rose from the table.
“I appreciate the offer to keep Nick, but I’ll see that he plays quietly today at home,” she said, making a mental note to call Susie. Olivia turned to Blossom, who was pouring a glass of orange juice. “Are you guys leaving today?”
“The car’s already packed.” She hugged Olivia. “Thanks for coming yesterday. I know that wasn’t easy for you, then Nick had his accident... That was quite a scare, but since he seems to be fine, yes—we’ll start for the West Coast.”
That had been Blossom’s dream when she’d fled the nightmare of her previous relationship. On the run from her abusive fiancé and determined to protect her unborn baby, she’d thought if she reached California she’d be free. Olivia was glad she had a happier occasion to celebrate now and the coming baby to look forward to soon.
Blossom and Logan were driving west. Her pregnancy was far enough along that she didn’t feel comfortable flying, and some airlines didn’t permit that in the last trimester. They also wanted to see the sights on their way.
“I’m good,” Nick said to his cereal bowl. “My head hardly hurts at all.”
Another pair of footsteps clattered down the steps and Sawyer came into the room. He looked at Olivia as he spoke, his tone thin. The conversation must have drifted up the stairs to him. “He really should stay here.” As if he didn’t want him to but felt he had to suggest that. “With Sam,” he added.
Was he omitting himself? Sawyer had always had a passionate streak, taking chances, riding the rankest horse. Olivia felt certain he’d carried that into his career as a physician, one who must deal often with trauma worse than Nick’s fall yesterday. His history of making quick decisions, taking risks, would be an asset.
Yet she saw a new difference in him. Olivia couldn’t put her finger on what that was, but she saw it in his eyes. He seemed to be hiding something deep inside.
She stared into her half-empty cup. The riskiest thing she planned to do was to possibly move away from Barren.
“Did I hear my name?” When Sam wandered into the kitchen in search of coffee, too, she almost groaned. He and Nick liked to hang out together and she expected Sam to weigh in about Nick, but he surprised her. “Sorry, won’t be here today. With Logan gone, I have work to do.” He didn’t mention Sawyer.
She felt almost sorry for him. He still had his troubles with Sam and Logan.
Olivia gathered her bag and the sweater she’d brought yesterday in case the air grew cool during the reception. “My sitter can watch Nick. I’ll fill Susie in on his fall so she’ll make sure he takes it easy. Let’s go, punkin.”
She wondered if she imagined the relief on Sawyer’s face.
* * *
AFTER OLIVIA LEFT with Nick, Sawyer wandered down to the barn. Aside from last night, he hadn’t been there in nine years. The familiar smells of hay and leather and manure assailed his senses, taking him back to another time when life had seemed simpler—when as a boy, then during college, Sawyer had lived for this barn, these horses. Back when he’d expected to take over the Circle H one day.
Then, after Sawyer’s first year of med school, Olivia had married his brother, and Sawyer had stopped coming home. Sometimes he thought part of his reason for opening the clinic in Kedar three years ago had been to get so far away from Barren that he’d never feel tempted to contact Olivia again.
This morning he couldn’t get past his new feelings of guilt, and to make matters worse, he was still worried about Nick.
My head hardly hurts at all. Sometimes, as Sawyer knew only too well, kids tried to cover up or downplay their symptoms, or they couldn’t articulate what was wrong until it was too late. Yet, even the Hippocratic oath couldn’t convince Sawyer it was his place to make Nick stay at the ranch or to watch over him. Olivia had decided to leave, and she was Nick’s mother.
In the quiet sunlit aisle of the barn, he talked for a few minutes with a couple of ranch hands. The pair was saddling a bay mare and an Appaloosa gelding. Willy and Tobias were getting ready to ride fence, he supposed. Once he went back up the hill, he’d be alone in the house. He had nothing to do. “I could ride with you,” he offered, although he hadn’t been on a horse much in recent years.
Willy, a tall man with dirty blond hair and a sly manner Sawyer didn’t like, eyed him up and down, obviously noting his new jeans and boots. “Rough work,” he said. “Wouldn’t want to mess you up.”
Tobias, who was older and had a wiry build, snorted. “Fancy duds.”
Sawyer flinched. They didn’t want him to go with them. Okay, he got that. Once he’d been a pretty fair hand. Now, with rusty skills, he’d only get in their way. He’d likely cut himself on some barbed wire and remember he was overdue for a tetanus shot.
Tobias and Willy mounted up. With a tip of their hats, they ducked low to ride out of the barn, looking more comfortable in their well-worn saddles than they did on two legs. As their horses trotted toward the pasture gate, he heard the two men laughing.
Leaning to open the gate, Willy called back. “Come over to the Wilsons’ later if you want to help. We’re rounding up some missing cattle.” A wedding guest last night had mentioned a trio of rustlers who’d tried to clean Grey Wilson out, but they’d been caught and the local ranchers had offered to help bring the cows home. “Logan’s prob’ly got some old clothes you can borrow. Pickup keys are in the black truck.”
Sawyer watched them go. He was only here to help Sam and get his own head together. After Logan returned from his honeymoon, Sawyer would leave. Yet Grey was an old friend. How could he not drive over to Wilson Cattle, at least offer to pitch in?
But Grey was also Olivia’s brother. What if she was there later, too? He didn’t relish another awkward conversation with her.
He half wished Nick had stayed, a ready excuse for Sawyer to remain at the Circle H all day, not that the kid had exactly taken to him. He’d examined Sawyer with curiosity, confused him at first with Logan, then seemed to dismiss him.
Besides, Nick reminded him of that other child he hadn’t been able to save. The memory of that boy, who like many others had been pulled from the landslide rubble, made him feel guilty all over again. His dreadful mistake had cost a young life, and he couldn’t seem to forgive himself for that, either.
How possibly to atone?
There was no way to bring back that dark-haired, dark-eyed child or to relieve the sorrow Sawyer had seen in his parents’ eyes. He could only guess how that must hurt.
At the age of eight, Sawyer had lost his mother and father in a road accident. They’d been on their way home the day before his and Logan’s birthday. It was Sam who’d raised them, adopted him and Logan, who’d been here all these years like a father to them.
The memory of his parents had saddened him. It seemed that everyone he loved, he lost.
Sawyer drifted down the barn aisle, stopping here and there to say hello to each horse that sidled up to the stall bars and poked out a soft nose. He didn’t realize Sam was in the next stall until Sawyer walked up to peer at the black colt inside.
The horse’s ears flattened against his skull. His eyes rolled, showing the whites. Not a good demonstration of his nature.
Sam lifted his head. “Better keep back.” At the horse’s side, he’d been bent over, picking the colt’s hooves. “He doesn’t like strangers.”
Sawyer obeyed. He didn’t fear the horse, but he wouldn’t agitate him and get Sam into trouble. Moving around in an occupied stall could be dangerous.
He assessed the animal with a cool eye. He had good conformation—beautiful, in fact. His glossy black hide shone in the soft light coming through the stall window that opened onto the barnyard. The colt danced around, reminding Sawyer of another horse years ago, shifting his hindquarters one way, then the other as if he were doing a samba. “He looks like a real handful.”
“Oh, he is,” Sam said but with apparent pride. “Picked him up at a sale. Guy there told me this one’s daddy was a prizewinner—champion barrel racer—but his baby showed no signs of following in his hoofprints. I got him for a song.” Still hunched over, Sam glanced up again. “Cyclone has no manners. And he bites.”
“You love him,” Sawyer murmured. He could see that in Sam’s eyes.
“I will.” He straightened, then lightly swatted Cyclone on his near flank to shift him over. “Once he learns how to behave.”
“Has he had any groundwork?” The horse, which appeared to be a yearling, wouldn’t be ready to ride until he was three, but he needed to learn some of those manners long before that. Sawyer’s hand all but twitched to feel a lunge line in his grasp, with one flick of his wrist to get the colt moving with a fluid, forward gait in the corral.
“Logan offered to work with him,” Sam said, “and so has Grey Wilson, but neither one has gotten around to that, much less breaking him first.”
Sawyer didn’t like the term break. It implied ruining an animal’s spirit. He preferred a gentler touch.
Years ago, he’d not only been a better ranch hand in the making than his twin brother, he’d also trained a few horses. One of them, at an advanced age and probably now in retirement, still lived in the end stall by the barn doors. On his way through, Sawyer had slipped him an apple. Another, Sundance, was Sam’s horse and now Logan’s part of the time. Another...had belonged to Olivia, but that horse wasn’t here or at Wilson Cattle.
“I could give the colt a try,” he said, testing the waters. He wasn’t the only one to remember that other horse. He doubted Sam would trust him with the colt.
Sam blinked. “Been a while since you handled a green one like Cyclone.”
“I’m willing to try, though. While I’m here,” he added.
“He’ll need lots of attention. You plan to stay that long?”
“I don’t know. Depends on what you mean by long.” Yet Sawyer felt his spirits begin to lift. Frankly, this morning he’d been feeling sorry for himself. Regretting his reluctance to take responsibility for Nick’s care. Knowing he wasn’t part of the Circle H anymore, part of anything, really. His partner, Charlie, in the clinic had seemed half-relieved to see him go. Sawyer’s presence was a constant reminder of what had happened there, and he guessed Olivia felt similarly about him. He’d be doing her a favor to keep away from her.
Sam was right. He wouldn’t stay long, didn’t know where to go when he left, much less how to find redemption for his sins. Still...
He reached through the stall bars, taking the chance to stroke the colt’s nose. For his first attempt at friendship, he got a sharp nip that broke the skin on his index finger. Sawyer snatched his hand back.
“Told you.” Sam shoved the horse aside to slide open the door. “Saw him take off the tip of someone’s ear a couple months ago.” He stepped out into the aisle, then threw the bolt, shutting Cyclone inside.
Sawyer looked at the colt for a moment. It seemed suddenly important to establish his temporary niche at the Circle H, give himself something to do while he was here. Maybe with Cyclone he’d do better than he had with a scalpel in his hand in Kedar. By the time he left, the black colt might have the foundation to become a decent horse. If Sawyer didn’t fail again.
“I’ll try anyway,” he told Sam.
* * *
OLIVIA WAS STILL fuming as she parked her car in front of the antiques shop where she had a meeting with the owner, who wanted to sell. Without warning and after Olivia had called to remind her, Susie had cancelled, which was becoming a habit for Nick’s babysitter. More than once this summer, Olivia had been forced to work from home, which had meant closing her store and losing business for the day, to stay with Nick. Her primary concern, of course, was her son, but she’d had to bring him with her today, and Susie’s frequent no-shows were a problem.
Now, because Olivia hadn’t let Nick stay at the ranch, he was sulking. Still mad, too, she supposed, about their possible move.
Even so, he was unusually quiet. She shut off the car’s engine, glanced at Nick in the rear seat, then opened her door. Maybe it was better that he’d come with her so she could watch him. From what she’d seen last night and earlier today, she wouldn’t want Sawyer to look after him. What kind of doctor was he?
“Nick, Mr. Anderson is waiting for us.”
Theodore Anderson met them at the door. His stooped posture, the frail look of him, alarmed Olivia. The last time she’d seen him, he’d appeared much stronger. His watery eyes and the fringe of white hair around his scalp added to the impression. Olivia hoped her dismay didn’t show on her face.
“Ted, how nice to see you.” She reached out for a hug. “This is my son, Nick.”
He shook Nick’s hand. “How do you do, young man?”
Nick mumbled a response. Ted had the old-fashioned manners of a nineteenth-century gentleman, which suited his profession, but Olivia caught a faint flicker of unease in his gaze, to which she could relate. Like hers, his shop was filled to the rafters with furniture and delicate collectibles. Every tabletop held glass paperweights, exquisite crystal, ceramic figurines. Olivia spied a graceful Lladró statue of an elegant lady in gray with sweeping, sculpted skirts, one of the first designs the esteemed Spanish manufacturer had issued. Her mouth watered.
“What gorgeous things you have.”
Ted’s expression fell. “Apparently, I need to get rid of them. My son and his wife want me to move to Florida.”
What did he want? Olivia felt sorry for him. He was obviously under some pressure, but Ted’s wife had died several years ago, and she could see he’d declined since then. He probably felt he was losing his independence now.
“Do they live there?”
“No. My son has a small ranch not far from here. He’s convinced my arthritis will improve once I get away from our Kansas winters. They’ve found me a lovely condominium down South.” He didn’t sound enthusiastic.
Giving up his shop would be hard for Ted. He knew each item and where to find it in this magnificent clutter of a place. She didn’t doubt he loved every single piece.
“I take it you’re not wild about a move, but warmer weather might be nice,” she said. “I don’t care for snow myself.”
He smiled a little. “Then maybe you should buy that condo. I’ll stay to run my shop—and yours.”
“That wouldn’t work for me,” she said, “but I’m interested in buying you out here if you do want to sell.”
His thin shoulders slumped even more. “Let me show you around.”
Nick trailed behind, his fingers busy on the tablet she’d bought for his birthday, his gaze intent on the screen. He’d recently discovered Minecraft. Although the game was educational and creative, if she didn’t set limits for him, Nick would play all day and night.
Ted gave her a tour of the shop, pointing out an especially valuable English silver tea set here, an exquisite Victorian fainting couch upholstered in lush plum velvet there, while Olivia held her breath. She’d always loved his store. Ted had exquisite taste. He had carefully acquired an amazing and expensive collection, a good percentage of which Nick, lost in his game, could easily blunder into.
As they returned to the front of the store, Nick raised a hand to rub his forehead with a frown. He bumped against a round mahogany drum table from the eighteenth century, rattling its display of fine Lalique perfume bottles. Olivia barely righted one in time to prevent it from breaking.
Her heart slid back down into her chest. “Sorry,” she said just as Nick crashed into a small nearby liquor cabinet, a priceless-looking Tiffany vase on its top shelf. To her horror, the vase wobbled, then fell, shattering into pieces on the floor. Shards of glass, splintered with light into a full spectrum of colors, scattered everywhere.
Olivia cried out, then dropped to her knees to begin picking up the mess. “I’m so sorry, Ted. Of course I’ll pay for the damage.” Or try to. She felt too shaken at the moment to ask what this particular vase had been worth.
“No need to apologize. We’ll work it out.” But he looked upset himself. He was simply too polite to lose his temper, and he hastened to reassure Nick, who seemed dazed as he mumbled an apology.
Ted led them past the front counter, where an ancient computer sat gathering dust. Beside it was a vintage cash register that he’d once claimed still actually worked. He said, “Just tell me you have an offer I can live with. About the shop.”
Keeping one eye on Nick, Olivia named a figure.
Ted wrinkled his nose. “I had something a bit higher in mind.”
Olivia tensed. “You know I’ll take special care of all your treasures.” Remembering the broken vase, she winced. “I won’t let a single one go for less than a good price. I’ll love them as you do.”
“Well...” He didn’t go on.
“Think about this,” Olivia said, not wanting to press him any further. “Call me if you want to counter my offer. And let me know about the vase.”
Ted ignored that part. “Those kids want me to move soon. Not much time to inventory everything and then...leave,” he added. “I’ll be giving up my livelihood. My passion, as it were.”
Olivia laid a hand on his arm. “We’ll talk.” Her gaze strayed to Nick, who was now sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor, still furiously thumbing the tablet as if nothing had happened. “I’m sure we can come to some agreement.” She hesitated, then tried to sweeten the pot. “Once we do, I promise to keep you in the loop, ask your advice on things. Goodness, I can’t possibly know as much as you do. That way you can keep your hand in and the shop can still feel like yours. Which it always will be.” Another pause. “I want you to be happy, Ted.”
His expression told her he didn’t think that was likely, but Olivia left him to ponder her offer, hoping he’d come around. She badly wanted his business. When a deal was done, she could think about a move away from Barren, away from her memories, some of which Sawyer had stirred up with his unexpected return. She told herself he’d probably be gone before she packed a single box.
In the car, Olivia sagged in her seat. “Oh, Nick.” How would she pay for the vase? She had a rough idea of its value, a figure that made her want to groan. She hadn’t wanted to make a scene in Ted’s shop, but Nick hadn’t been paying attention. And now his carelessness might have cost her a deal with Ted. Nick needed to learn there were consequences to his actions. “Sweetie, the vase you broke was very expensive.” Not that Nick had a true understanding of the money involved. “I hate to do this, but I think it will be a valuable lesson. You’ll have to help earn the money to pay back Mr. Anderson.”
“How?” he moaned. “Mom, I don’t feel good. I still got a headache.”
Her breath caught. “I didn’t mean today. We can work something out later.”
Nick’s frown deepened as they headed out to Wilson Cattle, where Olivia planned to pitch in wherever she could with the return of Grey’s cattle. At Ted’s shop, she’d thought Nick was simply bored and cranky. Then she’d assumed he felt terrible about the broken vase, though he’d said nothing after his brief apology. Now she wondered. Was he just tired? Doubling down on the sulking because he’d have to do added chores to pay off part of the debt? Or was it something else?
She drove faster, trying to run through the numbers to adjust her offer to Ted but worrying more about Nick as she neared Barren.
“It really hurts,” he said with a groan.
Her pulse suddenly pounding, Olivia checked her rearview mirror. Nick’s face was ashen, worse than it had been last night. She wanted to pull over, but traffic on the interstate made that a dicey proposition. She’d risk getting hit while parked on the shoulder.
She gripped the steering wheel. “Hang on, baby. We’ll be there soon.”
She tried to tell herself he just needed something for the pain, that this was normal after what he’d been through last night. It wasn’t an emergency, was it?
She glanced again in the mirror.
Nick had slumped to one side. Dozing, as he’d often done in the back seat since he was a baby? Or had he passed out again?
Panic hit her as if a rock had been thrown through the windshield. “Nick!”
His eyes opened, then closed again. “I’m sleepy.”
A quick look at her GPS told Olivia they were nowhere near the hospital.
She grabbed her cell phone from the seat beside her and called Doc but only got a recorded message. Gone fishing. If you have an emergency, contact Dr. So-and-So... Olivia barely listened and missed the name. But no one answered at the clinic on Main Street, either.
She didn’t have a choice. The ranch wasn’t far now.
She hit Speed Dial for the Circle H and asked for Sawyer.
CHAPTER FOUR (#u20209f12-4c6e-5617-aabb-2a854e3fc199)
SAWYER DIDN’T TAKE the black ranch pickup. An hour or so after Willy and Tobias had ridden out, he saddled up Sundance, then started over the hill to Wilson Cattle. Although he hadn’t ridden in years—unless he counted the few house calls he’d made in Kedar, climbing the side of a mountain on a tough Asian pony—he relished the feel of Sundance’s much bigger, warm horseflesh between his legs.
The steady, rhythmic clop of iron-shod hooves on the hard dirt path of summer, the feel of leather reins guiding the horse around stony obstacles or out from under the occasional tree branch, made him happy for the first time since the landslide.
All by himself, Sawyer grinned. Once, he’d loved this place and never wanted to leave. Funny, the different trails life takes you on, he thought as he crested the low hill. For the first time since he’d walked into his brother’s wedding reception last night, he wasn’t thinking about Kedar or even Olivia.
That is, until he realized he was riding the same path he had with her years ago. Below, the neighboring ranch was a bustle of activity. Trucks parked everywhere. People milling about. Laughter and talk rising into the heated air. He spotted Everett Wilson with his new wife, Liza. They must have decided to stay longer instead of flying right back to Dallas after yesterday’s wedding.
A rig towing a stock trailer had just rolled in, stirring up dust and filled with bellowing cattle. Sawyer wondered if they were irritated at being herded into a metal pen on wheels with the others or if they were calling out in recognition that they were home again.
Wearing a black Stetson clamped over his light brown hair, Grey met him at the bottom of the hill. “You here to join the fun? We could use more help.” As he said the words, two other monster pickups with slat-sided trailers barreled along the driveway to the barn.
“Whatever you need me to do,” Sawyer said. He saw Willy and Tobias heading for the first truck and nodded in their direction. Willy tipped his straw cowboy hat as if to acknowledge the worn jeans and Western-style shirt Sawyer had filched from Logan’s closet. “Looks like you nearly lost a big bunch of cattle, Grey. How many?”
“A good percentage of my herd,” Grey agreed. “I’m more than glad to have them back.” He couldn’t seem to stop grinning, his blue-green eyes alight but not only for the cattle, Sawyer noted. The dark-haired woman he had seen with Grey the night before was coming across the ranch yard with the little girl who’d alerted everyone to Nick’s fall. As she came closer, Sawyer finally recognized the child’s mother—Grey’s long-ago girlfriend.
Grey scooped her close to his side, then ruffled the girl’s hair. “You remember Shadow?” he asked. “And this is Ava. Our daughter.”
Sawyer glanced at the diamond ring on Shadow Moran’s hand. He didn’t see a wedding band, so... “Congratulations. I knew you before I left the Circle H. You were behind me, though, in school. What, three, four years?”
“Five.” Her dark eyes warmed. “At first, when I crossed the yard, I thought you were Logan—then I remembered he and Blossom are on their honeymoon.”
Ava gazed up at him. She looked like her mother except for her eyes, the color of Grey’s. “You and Logan are just the same.”
“Yes, we are,” he said, then pointed at the small scar by his right eye. “You can always tell me from him because of this.”
“How did you get it?”
“Doing something I shouldn’t have been doing.” He touched her shoulder, then turned back to Grey. He wondered why Grey was just now getting around to marrying Shadow, though it was none of his business. “Point me in the right direction. I did work the Circle H before Sam decided to run bison instead of cows, and I don’t think I’ve forgotten how to handle them.” He hoped not. “Nice-looking Black Angus you have, by the way.”
“Thanks, Sawyer.”
He had started toward one of the trucks to help unload when he stopped again. “Who stole these cattle, anyway?”
Shadow shifted in Grey’s embrace. Her mouth turned down. “My own brother—and two other men.”
“One of them a ranch hand of mine.” Grey kissed the top of her head. “The sheriff’s not happy with them, and they may still be in trouble with the law, but I refused to press charges. Shadow’s baby brother got off on the wrong foot in life. We’ll try to change that if we can.”
Sawyer was still digesting that when a car coming up the drive cut around several pickups and stock trailers, then braked to a stop right near him, spraying dirt everywhere. The cloud of dust choked Sawyer and he was coughing when Olivia got out. Eyes wide, she left her door flung open and charged up to him.
“Nick!” she managed to say, then pointed at the car.
In the dim light inside, Sawyer could see the boy leaned over in his seat, eyes closed, his body limp. Sawyer’s pulse jumped.
“I called the Circle H,” she said from behind him. “No answer at Doc’s or the walk-in clinic, either. Then I remembered everyone was here today and we were only minutes from Wilson Cattle, too. I hoped Doc had stopped by on his way to go fishing—”
“Why didn’t you head for Farrier General?” The ER there had Nick’s chart from the night before.
“It’s no closer today than it was last night.” She mentioned her visit to the antiques shop. “Frankly, I didn’t expect to find you here.”
“Yes, you did,” Sawyer murmured. He doubted she’d come in search of Doc, but he couldn’t blame her for saying that.
Olivia told him about Nick’s headache, which had obviously gotten worse since that morning when Sawyer had worried about it. He could see for himself how drowsy Nick was, if not in danger of slipping into a coma. He didn’t want to scare her, but this wasn’t good.
Last night, he’d hesitated to even approach Nick. He couldn’t stall now. “Olivia, stay with Shadow.” He glanced at his friend. “Grey, keep everyone away.”
The last thing he needed was a crowd. Sawyer hunkered down in the open doorway and reached into the car, checked Nick’s pulse, made sure his airway was clear, his heartbeat strong. This was the sort of basic triage care he’d practiced with the victims of the landslide, and as he performed the quick movements again, he didn’t need to think. To doubt himself. He only had to act—and do the right thing.
Finally, he turned to Olivia. “Get in,” he said.
She’d been standing with Grey, her brother’s arm around her, but hurried back to the car. “Is he—”
“Olivia, let’s go. I’ll drive.”
* * *
OLIVIA FELT COLD all over. If she didn’t keep a tight grip on herself, she would begin to shake and wouldn’t be able to stop. She clenched her jaw to not let her teeth chatter. She’d been sitting in the Farrier General waiting room again for what seemed like hours.
Shadow sat beside her. Grey had offered to come with them—insisted upon it—but Shadow had told him to stay behind for now. He had his returned cattle to oversee, and their daughter, Ava. They would keep him posted, and he could come to the hospital later. Olivia had hoped that wouldn’t be necessary, that Nick would be released as quickly as he was last night, but the staff members’ words so far didn’t reassure her.
She tried to think of something—anything—else to stay sane. Like her plans to trade in her car soon. She needed something bigger, maybe an SUV, to deliver purchases to her customers. But she couldn’t concentrate on that. Feeling anxious, she kept looking around but didn’t see Sawyer anywhere.
Shadow patted her arm, her voice low and soft. Her liquid dark eyes held Olivia’s gaze. “I’m sure one of the doctors will be out soon. They need to focus on Nick right now. Get him stabilized.”
Olivia nodded but only felt worse. “I’m a bad mother,” she said. “I should never have left the Circle H this morning.” She could feel hysteria rising inside her. The longer she sat here, even with Shadow for company, the more worried she got.
“You’re a wonderful mother,” Shadow insisted, tucking a strand of her long, dark hair behind one ear. “Far better than I was to Ava at times. He’s going to be all right, Olivia.” She peered down the hall, as if also searching for Sawyer. “Nick’s a tough little boy. He’s a fighter.”
“He’s also seven years old and small for his age—” She broke off. Shadow was right. Olivia wasn’t making sense. More than anyone else, she knew how strong-willed Nick could be. “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess.” Shadow was aware of how overly protective she’d been of him since the flood at the ranch. “I was making good progress,” Olivia said. “Now this. I can’t stand waiting.” She gestured at the Staff Only sign. “I want to charge through those doors—”
“Of course you do.” Shadow drew her close and gently pressed her head against her shoulder. “Try to relax. Deep breaths. I’ll tell you as soon as I see someone coming.”
Olivia wasn’t sure whether she meant a nurse, a doctor or Sawyer, or which one she should hope for.
* * *
“NICKY’S BACK IN the hospital?” Logan asked, sounding tense. Sawyer could hear the hum of the highway in the background, the blast of a horn from what sounded like a semi blowing past Logan’s car. “Why?”
He’d told Olivia he would call his brother, the last thing he’d said to her before he escaped the waiting room.
“He’s being admitted.” Sawyer tried to downplay the seriousness of the situation. He’d made a quick report to Olivia after first speaking with the doctors, but he didn’t know exactly how bad Nick’s condition was yet.
Sawyer had been pacing the hospital cafeteria for the past hour. He’d memorized every food item available, but the sight of bins of meatloaf with onions swimming in gravy, pale yellow corn and anemic-looking peas, limp french fries, and slices of lemon meringue pie turned his stomach. With every step, he’d been debating with himself. Rush back to the waiting room? Be there for Olivia, assuming she would want him by her side? Or—and he was leaning most strongly toward this option—hurry out to the parking lot and borrow her car? Get away from here? He could pick her up later or Shadow could drive her home. On the other hand...
He was licensed to practice in the state of Kansas. He’d gotten his degree, done his internship and residency here after he left the Circle H for good. And then, overseas, he’d failed in the most basic way when someone needed him most.
Nick is a different person, he told himself. Nick was his nephew, as Olivia had pointed out. But to Sawyer, that was splitting hairs. He didn’t have an affiliation with this hospital. You could study his chart, though. You could discuss his treatment plan. You could screw up again.
“What did the doctors say?” Logan was asking. “What do you think?”
Sawyer couldn’t answer. He didn’t want to admit he’d all but recused himself from the case, as he had every right to do. Nick was a close family member, and because of emotional involvement, Sawyer could opt out—as if he’d been asked to take part. But Logan was his only brother. Didn’t he owe him more than that? Wasn’t a nine-year absence from all their lives enough? If he couldn’t atone for Kedar, he should at least try to make up for that. And the other doctors were willing to talk to him as a professional. He could share his views. Although they had disagreed, he suspected Nick’s headache might be due to a hematoma. Had they since scanned his head?
“I’m turning around,” Logan said.
In the background, Sawyer heard Blossom agree. “We have to make sure Nick’s okay. Poor little guy...”
Of course they did. Sawyer didn’t try to dissuade them. Maybe by the time they got here, Nick would be out of danger and released again, and they’d all share in various expressions of relief sprinkled with laughter, as if they’d been foolish to even think he could be in real trouble. In any event, Sawyer knew Logan needed to see his boy for himself. “Drive safe,” he said.
After the call ended, he resumed his circuit of the cafeteria. The lemon pie’s meringue was starting to curl with beads of moisture glistening from the overhead lamp. The meatloaf’s gravy had congealed in its steel bin and... You’re a coward.
Sawyer made an about-face. What kind of brother, uncle, friend—ex-friend, to Olivia—was he? He’d been trying to protect himself to the point of being unable to protect a vulnerable child. Nothing new there, but not very admirable, either.
He marched toward the exit, out into the hall and down another back into the emergency department to collar Nick’s doctor. Even the well-known smells of antiseptic, of medications and of illness and fear, including his own, didn’t stop him.
Olivia was nearby, waiting. Reason enough.
She didn’t need him to treat her child, but she did need his knowledge.
Sawyer went to see about that scan.
CHAPTER FIVE (#u20209f12-4c6e-5617-aabb-2a854e3fc199)
“TELL ME,” Olivia said, rising from her seat as soon as Sawyer reentered the waiting area. While he’d been gone to call Logan and she’d been trying to hang on to her sanity, the small TV on the wall had kept playing the same video loop over and over again, informing any viewers about the most recent treatments for diabetes and elder incontinence. Olivia had been about to lose the rest of her mind. The only ailment she wanted to hear about was Nick’s. Leaving Shadow, she marched out into the hall with Sawyer following.
He ran a hand over the nape of his neck. “Try to be patient. The doctors are doing all that’s necessary, Olivia.” Sawyer focused on a point beyond her shoulder. “This is all I know right now—we’ve finally agreed that Nick has a hematoma.”
She felt her body drain of strength. “Sam also had a blood clot, or whatever,” she pointed out. “Didn’t he?”
“No. Well, as far as I know, he had a concussion. This is subdural.”
“What does that mean?”
Sawyer rubbed the back of his neck again. “I didn’t like the look of his pupils last night and this morning—”
“Then why didn’t you say something? Do something?”
“I’m not practicing right now. I’m not his primary physician. All I could do was make sure his head stayed elevated during the night in a midline position and that he remained responsive. Otherwise, I don’t make the decisions—for which you’re probably glad.” Sawyer’s explanation made her head spin, but he went on. “Nick’s initial score on the Coma Scale we use was around fourteen when Nick was sent home last night, meaning he didn’t need to be admitted. But today, as you know, his condition became worse.” He softened his tone. “He’s had a CT scan now, which they didn’t do last night. With kids, we worry about the radiation exposure, so we avoid CTs if their initial scores indicate only mild head trauma. As in a certain percentage of cases, he has a faint linear skull fracture and now, some brain swelling.”
Olivia shook her head to clear it. “Does that mean surgery?”
Sawyer cupped her elbow, as if he guessed she might faint. “I hope not. His other signs are pretty good. Unless the swelling gets worse, and fast, it’s likely a wait-and-see scenario. In lots of cases, the swelling goes down on its own. But I’ll talk to his doctors again later.”
She was shaking now, and she poked his chest with her index finger. “Your silence—your selfish silence—could have resulted in tragedy for Nick. It still might, from what I hear. You might not be his doctor, but you still could have said something last night, if you thought— And you haven’t even bothered to visit his room. All you can say now is that waiting’s just part of medicine?”
“Olivia, he’s getting good care. What else would you have me do?”
She glared. “Nothing, I suppose. Or no, maybe I should be grateful you didn’t intervene like years ago when—”
His mouth tightened. “Seriously? You want to bring that up now? Compare then, and a horse, to your own child? It’s not the same, Olivia.”
“I know it’s not. But you were guilty then. As far as I’m concerned, you’re guilty now—and this time it’s my son who has suffered.”
Sawyer’s blue eyes darkened. He seemed to collect his thoughts before he said, “Fine. You want to rehash the past? Okay, let’s. If you remember, years ago, yes, I challenged you to that race across a dry field littered with stones. There’d been no rain for weeks, but I had a sudden urge to fly like the wind. To hear you laugh,” he said. “I knew we shouldn’t, but it wasn’t like we hadn’t done it before. All of us.”
Her mouth turned down. Olivia didn’t welcome the memory, but she’d started this. And that day they had been alone, not with their brothers. By then, she and Sawyer had been seeing each other for about six months, their childhood friendship left behind for a new relationship that was turning into love...until her feelings for him had led to tragedy.
Her eyes filled with fresh tears, and he tried to reach for her hand but Olivia stepped back. She knew they were both picturing the same moment: galloping neck and neck until, suddenly, Jasmine had lurched, stumbled, then fallen, taking Olivia down with her. Reining his horse to an abrupt stop, Sawyer had jumped off, dropped to his knees to make sure she was all right. Bruised but unbroken, Olivia had already started to cry. It took Sawyer another second to realize how badly hurt her horse really was.
Her beautiful black mare lay on her side, breathing hard, her normally calm brown eyes wide with pain and fear before they rolled back in her head. Her left foreleg had been shattered by the fall.
“I’m sorry, Olivia. I should have known better. If I hadn’t argued with Sam again that morning, maybe I wouldn’t have suggested the race at all. But I did. And that’s no excuse. I’m not sure if I’ve told you before, but we were fighting about med school. About my being away from the Circle H so much. Sam wanted me there more often instead. I had so much anger then. Probably still d—”
“She died.” Olivia’s tone held the unshed tears that had filled her eyes, partly for the horse, partly now for Nick. Maybe—no, definitely—it was best that Sawyer hadn’t tried to treat Nick. “You didn’t even give her a chance. You shot her, right in front of me.”
“I put her down,” he said, and she bristled at the euphemism. “We were a mile from the ranch yard, the barn, probably an hour or more from the vet getting there. What else could I do?” He’d repeated the question he’d asked about Nick. “Like Logan, Grey and me, you’d been riding since you were two years old. You knew why I had that rifle with me, why any other rancher would have one, too. Warding off coyotes isn’t the only reason. There wasn’t time, Olivia.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Would you rather have watched her suffer?” Sawyer shook his head. “Jasmine broke her leg in about a hundred places. There was no putting her back together. Trying to reconstruct that foreleg would only have caused her more pain and wouldn’t have worked in the end. She’d have gone crazy shut up in a stall for weeks, maybe hurt herself again with the same result.”
She pressed her lips together, then said the words anyway. “Is that how you manage your human patients?”
Sawyer turned pale. “I’m not managing anyone. I told you that.”
He started to walk away, but Olivia went after him, grasping his arm and feeling the hard muscle under her fingers. His whole body was taut. Her voice trembled. “You just can’t say it, can you? That you were wrong—she might have survived—that you made a bad decision. That was my horse—the best horse I ever rode—a horse that could have been a national champion barrel racer.” She hadn’t ridden since, perhaps another reason she’d been against Nick getting Hero. “A horse I loved with all my heart. How am I supposed to forgive you for that?”
“You’re not.” He removed his arm from her grasp, then touched the corner of his right eye. Hysterical at seeing her horse destroyed, Olivia had struck out, cutting Sawyer with a ring she wore. “But if it makes you feel any better, I haven’t forgiven myself, either. I wish I’d had another option. I wish there was some way I could...make amends. Atone.”
He was halfway down the hall, and Olivia was still shaking, before the thought crossed her mind. He hadn’t just meant Jasmine. He hadn’t even meant Nick.
* * *
LIZA WILSON STEPPED out into the hallway of the pediatric neurosurgical wing. She’d gone in to visit Nick again until she could no longer blink back tears, so she’d finally left his room to get control of her emotions. Since his admission several days ago, she’d been running back and forth from Wilson Cattle to see him, but worry was never far from her mind. Liza didn’t have children of her own, and she’d taken a shine to Nick the instant they’d met.
The feeling seemed to be mutual, bless his heart. Which only made her worry more for his well-being. So far, surgery hadn’t been on the schedule and for that she felt grateful, but Nick wasn’t out of danger yet.
Understandably, Olivia was still a wreck, but she wasn’t inclined to lean on Liza, who had left her in the waiting area with Blossom, Logan and Everett. Liza knew Olivia liked her, yet they weren’t friends, much less stepmother and stepdaughter—family—except in legal terms. Neither Olivia nor Grey had fully accepted her, and Liza couldn’t blame them. As adults, perhaps they felt they didn’t need another mother, especially one who was only four years older than Olivia.
At thirty-six, Liza was twenty years younger than Everett Wilson. And his grown children already had a mother. A mostly absent one, Liza thought, but still... She might never be accepted, and the reality saddened her. The Interloper. Liza didn’t fit in here. But oh, she wanted to.
Halfway down the hall, she spied Sawyer and her opportunity to learn more about Nick’s condition. He was standing at a window that looked out onto the parking lot, his broad shoulders hunched, hands in his pockets.
Liza laid a hand on his forearm. “There you are.” Her pulse beat heavily. Why had he left the waiting room? Overcome, like her, by his feelings for Nick? Sawyer knew him less well than Liza did, not that that precluded concern. But, she realized, she hadn’t seen him in Nick’s room once. Had he just heard bad news? Or, no. Maybe he felt unwanted as she did. The Prodigal Brother.
“Hey, Liza.” Sawyer turned, forcing a smile. “I couldn’t take all the gloom and doom in there,” he said with a wave toward the waiting room. “Thought I’d catch some air, but no one opens windows here. The AC doesn’t cut it for me. Summer in the mountains of Kedar can be brutal, but here in Kansas...” Outside, heat and humidity shimmered off the pavement. Liza was used to that in Texas.
She couldn’t keep from asking. “What have you heard?”
“Nothing more. ‘Watchful waiting,’ his doctors say.”
“Do you agree?”
Sawyer glanced out at the blacktop. “They don’t need me to. I’m lucky to get a look at Nick’s chart now and then and try to read the scribbles. Olivia seems convinced I can read ‘doctorese,’ but that’s only my own. You’d think Farrier would have gone to electronic records by now, but handwriting’s closer to what I’m used to at my clinic. Or was,” he added.
“What do those scribbles tell you?”
“The brain swelling isn’t any worse—but it’s not that much better, either.”
“I see.” She’d been wrong. Apparently something hadn’t gone well between him and Olivia. If only her stepdaughter would let Liza hold and comfort her. Yet even in Nick’s room, standing together by his bed yesterday, Olivia had kept her distance and Liza had taken to seeing Nick alone or with Everett.
“I’m sure Olivia is grateful to you for staying close,” Sawyer said. “Grey told me he’s glad you and Everett decided to extend your visit.”
“Did he?” Her spirits brightened. Maybe Sawyer had noticed Olivia giving her the cold shoulder and was trying to comfort her. Liza had already seen that he was a sensitive person, one with a deep-seated pain he tried not to reveal to anyone else. “Grey’s a good man. Everett is proud of him.” So am I, she thought, though he probably didn’t want her approval.
Sawyer smiled without it reaching his eyes. “I hear Grey went through some hard times with the ranch, but he sure looks happy now. His cattle are back, and he’s engaged to Shadow. Guess there’ll be another wedding in your family soon.”
Liza couldn’t smile. My family. She wasn’t about to tell him that was a first for her, as if she truly belonged. She didn’t care to ponder her own painful past. “Everett and I eloped to Palm Springs. We had just the two of us and a pair of witnesses we tapped from among the other resort guests.”
“You didn’t want a big wedding here?”
Liza decided they were both sticking to safe topics. “No,” she said, not willing to mention that at the time Olivia had seemed to oppose the marriage, possibly wondering why her father needed to tie the knot a second time with someone so much younger than he was. Grey had said little and Liza had chalked that up to his usual reticence to talk about his feelings. Oh, they were both polite to her and included her in family events now, so maybe this would be a gradual thing, but Liza could always feel their reluctance to consider her a real part of the group.
Or was that her insecurity showing? “I was more than happy with a quiet ceremony and—” she added with a smile “—a good glass of wine to celebrate.”
“Grey tells me you also took a cruise for your honeymoon.”
Liza laughed at the memory. “Yes, would you believe? To the Galapagos on one of those expedition ships. As you can imagine and after living in a remote area yourself, it was quite a challenge—Everett’s idea. I always tell him he was hard to keep up with. I did enjoy seeing the unusual flora and fauna there. Thank goodness for my new hiking boots. And, of course, I loved just being with my new husband.” With Sawyer, she didn’t need to hide her love for Everett.
Sawyer glanced toward the waiting room. His eyes had turned from that compelling deep blue to indigo.
She touched his arm again. “Sawyer, what is it other than Nick? I know being home again after so long has its issues, but I’m sure Logan is pleased—”
“He tries hard not to show it.” He paused. “I almost wish he and Blossom had continued with their honeymoon.”
“But there’s something even more, isn’t there?”
He shrugged. “Nothing right now.” He turned away, as if casting about for a reason to leave. “Think I’ll try to get another look at Nick’s chart. The neurologist was here just before I stepped into the hall.”
Liza didn’t get the chance to say more. Sawyer kissed her cheek, and with what appeared to be a self-assured stride, he went back toward the nurses’ desk. Despite his show of confidence, he looked to her like another lost soul.
Like Liza.
* * *
SAWYER STAYED AT the hospital for as long as he could manage without coming out of his skin. He felt constantly torn between being there for Logan and Olivia, as if she wanted him, and the desire to flee before the very smells made him fall apart. Liza was in the waiting room again, too, and he didn’t want to continue their hallway conversation within earshot of Olivia. Frankly, his problems—here or in Kedar—were no one else’s cross to bear.
Sawyer had a hard enough time keeping his mind off Nick. Before he’d left today, he’d bought a teddy bear wearing a Superman costume and a big, encouraging grin in the gift shop, then left it with Olivia, whose murmured, if cool, “Thanks,” was the only word she spoke.
Nevertheless, it had conveyed the message: Sawyer should have delivered the stuffed bear himself instead of handing it off without ever stepping foot in Nick’s room. He shouldn’t have discussed the horse tragedy with her, either; revisiting that had only raised his self-doubt.
Feeling like a heel, he strode down the hall, then through the main lobby and outside to the truck—into a blast of summer heat. Knowing earlier that he wouldn’t be able to stick around too long, he’d borrowed a ranch pickup for the ride to Farrier General today.
Olivia would probably spend another night by Nick’s side, in a chair that supposedly turned into a bed. An uncomfortable one, he thought, her sleep interrupted if not by her worried thoughts, then by the constant stream of staff checking Nick’s vital signs, giving him medication or inspecting his IV lines.
Sawyer suppressed another twinge of guilt for escaping again, then got in, started the engine and sat there, letting the AC start to cool the interior, letting his pulse settle. He hadn’t put the truck in gear before his cell phone rang.
Sawyer tried to sound calm, in control, but his most recent talk with Nick’s doctors hadn’t eased his mind. Nick’s brain swelling was now worse. So was Sawyer’s approaching panic attack. Olivia was right to resent him for keeping his distance from her son, for not stepping up, just as she’d been right to blame him for Jasmine’s death, but Sawyer was having enough trouble holding himself together. She probably didn’t want him taking part in Nick’s care now.
“Hey, Charlie.”
At the other end of the line, Charles Banfield IV, a true Boston Brahman who’d attended Exeter and Harvard before meeting Sawyer at KU School of Medicine, launched into all the reasons why Sawyer should be in Kedar. Yesterday. He finished, “I’m doing what I can, but the twenty-hour days are taking their toll. I’ve lost ten pounds and I look like hell—so bad I’ve been avoiding the mirror when I shave.”
“Sorry, Charlie. I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Tell me you’re coming back.”
“I had the impression you didn’t want me there.”
Charlie ignored that. “The other day we had—I should say, I had—a dozen kids come in. There are no more hospital beds since the landslide leveled the infirmary. I haven’t had saline solution in over a week, so I can’t even hang IVs. Two women gave birth in the clinic last night. One of the babies, a preemie, sadly didn’t make it. And I’m still stitching up cuts, treating abrasions as well as I can without enough gauze, bandages, disinfectant...”
As Charlie trailed off, Sawyer remembered all too clearly the day he’d left Kedar as if he were being chased off the mountain by his demons. He’d left Charlie to handle everything in his absence, the one he wasn’t sure wouldn’t be permanent.
“I couldn’t stay there. Not after what happened to...Khalil,” he said. But now, after dealing with the clinic’s overload of desperate patients for a while, Charlie needed Sawyer, though he probably didn’t want to.
Was Olivia right? Had he made the wrong decision years ago with Jasmine, too? At least he hadn’t tried to manage Olivia’s son’s case.
Sawyer rubbed his neck. His pulse beat in his ears so loud he could hardly hear himself. His palms grew damp.
Charlie only said, “When are you coming back?”
Maybe I’m not. At the same time, Sawyer knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself unless he returned, made up for his mistake somehow. Still, he feared he couldn’t make the trip to the Himalayas again. Not yet. “How’s the road in?”
“Still blocked much of the way. Helicopters have been flying in whatever supplies are available. Sawyer, I know we had a pretty bad fight before you left. I apologize for anything I said that may have come across as, well, blameful. We’re still partners, aren’t we? The clinic needs you.” He hesitated, as if he hated having to say “So do I.”
Sawyer cleared his throat. Through the windshield, he watched a man walk out of the hospital, an arm around a crying woman’s shoulders. Then he saw Everett and Liza coming across the parking lot holding hands, and he fought an urge to slink down in his seat so as not to be seen. But if they were leaving, that was a good thing, right? Nick must still be holding his own. He didn’t want to talk to them, though.
“Listen, Charlie. I have to go.” Briefly, he filled him in about Nick. “I hope you can understand why I have to stay here awhile longer.”
“Of course.” But Charlie sounded disappointed. No, resigned.
“He’s close to...Khalil’s age.” And Sawyer hadn’t said five words to Nick. Why use him as an excuse?
But Charlie understood family. He was an only child whose parents, a Harvard archaeologist and a well-known pediatrician who headed her department at Boston Children’s Hospital, had left him to be raised mostly by nannies before shipping him off to boarding school when he was Nick’s age. He’d often spent his college breaks and summer vacations with other people’s families.
When they’d founded the clinic a few years ago, full of great plans to give back and make a difference in the world, Charlie had truly come alive. He’d found his passion. Before that, during his training, he’d met Piper, and they’d married and had two children. Sawyer had never seen a man take more readily to having a family of his own, as if to make up for his lonely childhood.
“I hate to let you down, Charlie. But I need more time.”
For a few minutes longer, they discussed Nick’s case as if they were together at the clinic, treating him rather than scores of needy people with more drastic conditions and worse prognoses. Struggling to cure diseases that couldn’t be cured in the end, performing surgeries that often failed to make the difference they’d hoped to make.
“How much time?” Charlie asked, his tone strained.
“I don’t know. I’ll keep in touch.” After he hung up, Sawyer wiped his damp hands on his jeans, then stared off into the distance.
An ambulance raced toward the ER entrance. A young couple, the wife holding what appeared to be a newborn baby, got into a waiting car, headed home to begin their family life together.
He seemed to be letting everyone down. Including—no, especially—Olivia. He could almost feel tonight’s nightmare coming on.
Where did he belong? Here, or there with Charlie?
Or in neither place?
Sitara, Kedar...last spring
THE EARTHQUAKE HAD come first. Without warning, the land began to shake, tremors shifting the simple huts of the village, sending people running into the street. The few two-story buildings swayed and windows shattered.
From his office at the clinic, which was shaking right along with the rest of Sitara, Sawyer watched it happen. There was little he could do. Such quakes happened now and then, more often than he cared to think about. People huddled together, babies cried, dogs and chickens ran for shelter.
After a minute or two, the quake subsided. Sawyer peered out the window but saw little damage. During the monsoon season after summer, he’d worry more about landslides, but in spring...
The thought hadn’t left his mind before he heard the rumble of sudden movement, and to his utter horror the whole side of the mountain that reared up at the end of the main street began to shift.
People looked up, screamed, then ran again, fleeing toward the clinic where he stood, waving their arms, looking back with their mouths open, gaping in terror.
Sawyer froze. In a wide swath of grayish-tan dirt and a gathering cloud of dust, rocks and boulders swept toward them, toward him, ripping trees out by the roots, consuming houses and sheds and farm animals like some giant hand clearing the green mountainside, the growing crops and anything else in its path. Like some monster, roaring like thunder. He would never get that sound out of his head.
Before he could move—but where to go?—some of the townspeople had swarmed into the waiting room of the clinic, weeping and moaning. Others hadn’t been as lucky; the landslide had buried them at the end of the street, sliding past the clinic but destroying the outbuilding that served as his and Charlie’s hospital. He knew the people inside would be crushed as the infirmary collapsed under the weight of rock and soil.
A woman rushed through the clinic door, one arm hanging, obviously broken. A compound fracture. He had to move, to help.
But shock had stunned him, and where was Khalil? After seeing him at the clinic earlier for a minor complaint, Sawyer had sent the boy back to school. Sawyer tried to move but couldn’t. He felt stuck, as if in cement or quicksand, and people were still yelling. Help us!
* * *
IN THE MIDDLE of the night, Sawyer jerked awake. He’d been dreaming, just as he’d expected he would, but the horrific images followed him into consciousness. He fell back against his pillow, sweating, remembering how he’d failed in Kedar.
CHAPTER SIX (#u20209f12-4c6e-5617-aabb-2a854e3fc199)
“UNCLE SAWYER BOUGHT me this?”
Two days later, after yet another brief scare that had taken ten more years off Olivia’s life, Nick was released from the hospital. To her vast relief, the edema in his brain had begun to resolve and his numbers had improved enough that he could be sent home—or rather to the Circle H.
Olivia drew a chair up beside his bed in the spare room. She and Nick would stay here until Logan and Sawyer felt satisfied that it was indeed safe for him to go home. His primary care doctor, Cyrus Baxter, was scheduled to make a house call tomorrow.
She tried to smile as Nick turned the Superman bear from Sawyer this way and that, examining its satin cape, then tracing a finger over its broad grin.
“Yes,” she said, trying to suppress a fresh wave of anger. She hadn’t seen Sawyer since they’d reached the house—hadn’t talked to him since that day at the hospital. Apparently he was still making himself scarce, sending gifts through someone else as if to show he cared.
“Why doesn’t he come to see me?”
“I don’t know, Nick. Maybe he’s busy helping Grandpa Sam.”
Sawyer wasn’t the only one among the missing. So was Clint. She’d enjoyed his company, but he hadn’t even called after Olivia first sent him the news of her son’s injury. Which said something about him, too.
“But Daddy’s here,” Nick said. “Uncle Sawyer doesn’t need to help.”
Olivia had no answer for that. She was surprised, to be honest, that Sawyer hadn’t already packed and left for—what had he called the place? Kebir? A few times, as she’d asked him to, Sawyer had talked to Nick’s doctors. He’d “translated” for Olivia. Then, after their talk about Jasmine, he’d relayed answers and she’d sent questions through Logan or Blossom. Even her father and Liza had delivered information to her. She hadn’t seen Sawyer again at Farrier General—not once.
Now she would have to. Nick was at the Circle H. So was Sawyer.
Olivia could feel thankful that her son was getting well. After hours of playing Minecraft with him, she was getting to be pretty good, but she felt exhausted. Her eyes had crossed from staring at the tablet screen all afternoon. “I’m glad you like your bear,” she said.
Nick considered for a moment. “But I don’t know if I like Uncle Sawyer.”
Neither do I, Olivia thought, which unfortunately didn’t seem to change the unwise attraction she still felt. She rose from her chair. “Why don’t you and your new friend take a nap? Grandpa Sam promised to come watch a movie with you after he feeds the horses. Your dad and Blossom are going to read a new book with you after dinner. Then maybe you can all watch a baseball game on TV tonight.”
Nick yawned. “Where are you going?”
“Downstairs,” she said, “to help Blossom with dinner.”
He gave her a sleepy grin. “You just don’t want to play Minecraft. Do you?”
“Tomorrow,” she said, then kissed the top of his head. “Rest, punkin.”
Her heart full, Olivia paused in the bedroom doorway to take a last peek at Nick, who had already snuggled into his pillows, the bear in his arms. For now, their potential move seemed far from his mind, and she’d loved their closeness today. As she shut the door behind her, she could hear him tell the stuffed animal, “I’ll take you to meet Hero as soon as I get out of bed.”
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Leigh Riker
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: He needs to stop running from his mistakes.Cowboy or doctor? Sawyer McCord has been wrestling with that question since he came home to the Circle H after fleeing his remote clinic in the Himalayas. A tragedy there has him doubting his medical skills, but his reception on the ranch has been chilly at best. Sawyer can′t blame his family—or Olivia Wilson, his brother′s ex—for their anger. So why does Olivia′s opinion of him suddenly matter so much? Sawyer has unfinished business here and at his clinic. If he′s ever going to redeem himself, he needs to start by making amends to the one woman who might never forgive him.