A Rancher to Remember

by Patricia Johns

  Anything.

  Work might have been his solace before the accident, but his eagerness to get back to it wasn’t only about proving himself to the in-laws he no longer remembered. Because even without that goading, his gaze kept moving to the window, beyond the fence and to the fields beyond.

  He knew where he belonged—out there.

  What did that say about him?

  * * *

  The toddlers woke up as soon as Olivia exited the bathroom, and the house appeared to be empty, so she lifted them out of bed, got them changed and dressed into matching jeans and little sweaters, and brought them out to the kitchen. She spotted Sawyer through the kitchen window, a hoe in hand as he bent over the garden bed. He paused, picked something out of the dirt, then tossed it aside onto the grass and continued his hoeing once more.

  She watched him for a moment, then looked down at the girls, who were playing with that bucket of toys in the corner.

  “Daddy is outside,” Olivia said.

  The girls glanced up at her, then turned back to their playing. She opened the side door and went out onto the step where she could see Sawyer bend down again, pick a rock out of the soil and toss it to the side. Then he set back to work. There was another clang as his hoe hit a rock.

  “What are you doing?” Olivia called from the side door.

  Sawyer looked up and wiped his forehead with the back of one hand. “Working.”

  “Do you need a hand?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  With a head injury like his, it wasn’t wise for him to be exerting himself just yet. There was a lot of unseen healing that needed to happen, but she doubted he wanted to hear that—not when she could feel the irritability coming off of him in waves.

  “Your daughters are awake,” Olivia said, glancing back into the kitchen. The toddlers came toward the open door and poked their heads out.

  “Daddy!” Bella called.

  Sawyer scrubbed a hand across his face and looked over at them, his expression grim.

  “Would you mind watching them for a bit?” he asked.

  Did she mind spending time with two little cuties? Not at all. But these little girls didn’t need her, they needed their dad. Besides, with her medical experience, she knew he shouldn’t be exerting himself like that right now.

  “You should be resting,” she said.

  “I need to get busy. I’m going stir-crazy,” he replied.

  Bella and Lizzie squeezed past her out the door, but Olivia caught them before their socked feet hit the dew-laden grass. She carried them back inside and dropped them both into their rubber boots. Then she released them so they could clomp back outside again. Their sweaters would be warm enough for now. The toddlers headed in their father’s direction. She saw his expression soften at the sight of them, but the tension was still there.

  “They want you, not me,” she said. “Besides, this isn’t good for you.”

  “Says who?” he snapped, then he sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, but I need this.”

  In the hospital, she was used to ornery patients, but in the emergency room, they were normally in too much pain to put up much of a fight. She was responsible for helping sew them back together, and she wasn’t the one who kept them from overdoing it through the slow days or weeks of healing.

  “You’re recovering,” she said curtly.

  “My memory is coming back. I remember enough not to hit myself in the head with a hoe.”

  “You’re recovering physically, too. Your doctor would have told you to relax for a couple of weeks, right?”

  He shot her an annoyed look. “You aren’t my nurse.”

  “Nope, but I said I’d help. This is my way of doing that,” she said. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing is going on. I’m tired of just sitting around feeling lost and confused. I was hoping you’d watch the girls so I could vent some frustration here.”

  “What are you frustrated about?” she asked. “Maybe I can help.”

  “Everything!” He sighed. “Nothing. You and Lloyd seem pretty focused on keeping me from working. But getting back to it is what’s going to make me feel better, okay? Can you keep an eye on them, or not?”

  “And if I say no?”

  Sawyer stopped, eyed her uncertainly. “Are you saying no?”

  Olivia didn’t want to turn this into a power struggle. She sighed. “I’ll watch them. But if you end up back in the hospital because you overdid it, you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

  “Yeah, but I won’t remember that,” he said irritably, and she could hear the dry humor in his voice.

  “Har har,” she muttered.

  But she wasn’t joking. Head injuries were nothing to play with, especially ones severe enough to cause amnesia. Olivia turned her back on him and headed toward the house, then sat down on the step so she could watch both the girls playing and their father.

  Sawyer looked over his shoulder. “So you’re just going to stare at me?”

  “Might as well,” she replied.

  She knew she was irritating him, but right now she didn’t care. He was risking his health by pushing it, and while she could sympathize with his frustration, she was frustrated, too.

  Sawyer picked up the hoe again, and as he did, he winced, gritted his teeth and looked down at his palm.

  “What?” she called.

  “Nothing.” He grimaced, looked at the wooden handle of hoe, then back at his hand.

  “Liar,” she said with a low laugh.

  “It’s a splinter.” He raised his hand, but she couldn’t make anything out from where she sat, so she pushed herself back to her feet and headed across the grass toward him. When she arrived at his side, she took his fingers in her hand to get a better look. A long, dark shard had shoved itself deep under the skin of his palm.

  “That would hurt,” she said, grimacing.

  Sawyer tried to pinch the end with his fingernails, and Olivia slapped his hand away.

  “Cut that out,” she said. “You’ll only break it off and it’ll be that much harder to get the rest of it.”

  “I think I can—” Sawyer turned away from her a little bit to try and grab it again, and she swatted his arm.

  “You’ll make it worse,” she warned. “That’s more than a splinter. That’s just about a stab wound.”

  He shot her an irritated look. “It’s a splinter.”

  “Then go ahead.” She crossed her arms over chest. “Let’s see who’s right.”

  She raised an eyebrow, and he met her gaze, then looked down at his palm. Blood had appeared at the site of the puncture. Olivia had dealt with similar small injuries at the hospital, and when the patient had mucked around, trying to pull the shard out themselves, it always made the retrieval process that much harder...and more painful.

  “You said I was the bossy one,” he muttered.

  “I didn’t say you were the only bossy one,” she replied with a slow smile. “I’m a nurse. It comes with the territory. I’m also right most of the time. You hate that, for the record. But it doesn’t change facts.”

  Sawyer smiled reluctantly. “I do hate this.”

  “Me being right, or just the whole situation?” she asked.

  “Mostly you being right,” he said, but his steely gaze had relaxed, and he glanced over to where the toddlers where playing by the fence.

  “Come inside. You’ve got to have a first aid kit around somewhere.”

  Sawyer sighed. “Fine. We should grab the kids.”

  Sawyer headed after the girls. He scooped up one toddler with his good hand, and Olivia jogged over to gather up the other. Olivia had Bella in her arms, and the girl squealed, trying to wriggle free. Olivia managed to keep a hold of her, though, and when she stepped into the kitchen, she let Bella go. The girl beelined for the bucket o
f toys. Lizzie did the same when Sawyer put her down.

  “So where’s the first aid kit?” she asked.

  “No idea.” He looked around the kitchen, then shrugged.

  Olivia pulled out her phone. Lloyd had given her his cell number earlier, and she typed in a text: Hi Lloyd. Just wondering where the first aid kit is. No emergency, so don’t worry.

  After a moment, there was a ping, and she read his reply.

  “Top cupboard over the stove,” she said. “Sawyer—sit down.”

  Olivia could reach the knob, and she tugged it open. The white plastic box was visible in the front of the cupboard, but when she stretched up, her fingers could only brush it when she went up onto her tiptoes. She’d need a stool or something. Sawyer sauntered up behind her, and when she dropped down to flat feet, she collided with his broad chest. He reached forward, over her head, and easily grabbed the box.

  “I’m more useful than I look,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

  He was so close to her, those dark eyes boring into hers. Her breath caught, and for just a moment, he wasn’t the old friend she could boss around. She didn’t know this Sawyer quite as well as she’d imagined. Because this wasn’t her buddy—this was a man who seemed to pin her to the spot with those dark eyes. This Sawyer didn’t know their history, and yet even without it, they were drawn to each other. It hardly seemed fair. This wasn’t supposed to get complicated...

  Sawyer put the first aid kit into her hands, a half-smile tugging at his lips.

  “Thank you,” she breathed.

  “You’re welcome.” He turned then, and headed to the table. He pulled out a chair with a scrape and sat down.

  Their problem had never been a lack of chemistry. His gaze followed her as she came over to the table and opened the first aid kit.

  “You need the rest, you know,” she said pulling up a chair next to him.

  “I don’t want to rest,” he replied.

  “Sawyer, I get how frustrating this is,” she said with a shake of her head. “I really do. But could you just not reinjure yourself on my watch? That’s all I’m asking. After I’m gone, you’re welcome to do any stupid thing you like. But if you get hurt while I’m supposed to be keeping you in one piece...people will talk, and I don’t need more of that right now.”

  She shot him a teasing look, and he rolled his eyes.

  “I’m not so vulnerable as you seem to think.”

  “This sliver begs to differ,” she said, and pulled a pair of tweezers out of the first aid kit. “Now, hold your hand flat—hold your fingers down with your other hand...like that. Good.”

  She gave the sliver a little tug. It didn’t budge. She tried again, and it moved ever so slightly. Sawyer winced.

  “That hurts,” he murmured.

  “It would,” she agreed, her voice low as she focused on grabbing the sliver again. “Keep an eye on the girls, would you? Accidents happen too easily...”

  Sawyer’s gaze moved toward his daughters, and as soon as his attention was off of his hand, she gave a pull and the rest of the sliver slid out of his flesh, a bead of blood filling up the wound.

  “Ouch!” He pulled his hand back, but she didn’t let go of his fingers, tugging his hand back down to the tabletop.

  “Stop that,” she said, reaching for a cleansing pad. She used her teeth to tear the package open, and gently wiped the area. “Let me see if I got it all.”

  “So was that distraction there—telling me to watch the girls?” he asked.

  “Bingo.” She shot him a grin. She gave his hand one last stroke with the cleansing wipe, then reached for a bandage. “There. You’re welcome.”

  Sawyer inspected his hand. “Thanks.”

  Bella came over to where her father sat and put a pudgy hand on his leg. “Up. Up!”

  Sawyer picked her up and settled her on his lap. The toddler looked pleased with herself, and she leaned back against his shoulder.

  “I need to get out there,” Sawyer said quietly. “I’m going crazy. I need to do something...contribute.”

  Lizzie trotted over, a wooden block in one hand. She squatted down at Sawyer’s feet and smacked his boot with the block. He looked down at her solemnly.

  “There are more important things to do, Sawyer,” Olivia said seriously. “Like remembering your daughters. You said you wanted to remember them, right?”

  “I do,” he agreed.

  “Well, this is how you’ll do that. And if, for some reason, you don’t get those memories back, you’re creating new ones.”

  Sawyer met her gaze and heaved a sigh. He looked down at Bella on his lap, then at Lizzie, who was heading back for the toy bucket. “You’re very irritating when you’re right.”

  “I know,” she said. “I always did drive you nuts.”

  He smiled ruefully. “So this is just our dynamic, is it?”

  “We always seem to fall back into it,” she confirmed. Even when he couldn’t remember their history, it seemed. This was how they’d always related to each other—relying on banter to cover over the deeper attraction they didn’t want to talk about.

  “I have a doctor’s checkup this afternoon,” he said. “Wondering if you might want to come along for that. I’m not real sure how to get there.”

  It was a good reason to bring her with him, but her stomach knotted up all the same. Did she want to go into town and face this community again? She’d seen another old acquaintance at the hotel—a cousin of a classmate who had pretended not to remember Olivia at all, even when she stopped to say hi. She could see in the woman’s eyes that she knew exactly who she was, but the old games weren’t over.

  “Sure,” she said, trying to sound casual. “A quick trip into town would be okay.”

  “We could bring the girls out for french fries or something afterward,” he said.

  A little more than a quick trip, then. She sighed. “First, we need breakfast, though. Priorities.”

  Sawyer shot Olivia a smile, then looked down at his daughter and ruffled her hair. “Deal. You hungry, Bella?”

  That smile...it always had been able to crack her heart in two. But she wouldn’t let herself fall for this man again. They hadn’t been right for each other in the past, whether he could remember that or not. But she did remember what it felt like to watch him move forward with Mia. If she’d been able to make her peace with this town, Olivia would have been the one with Sawyer, not Mia. And watching Mia fall in love with him, watching Sawyer soften around another woman... It had been the hardest thing she’d ever had to do.

  They’d been down this path before, and Olivia would just have to remember that for the both of them.

  Chapter Seven

  The drive into town felt a bit familiar, but Sawyer wouldn’t have been able to navigate it himself. He hated that—the feeling of being dependent on another person to get him to a doctor’s appointment. Maybe this was part of why he wanted to get out into the fields so badly—the independence. But if he couldn’t find his way back home again, he could see the problem with that plan...

  Independence would have to wait until his memory was back in full. Much as he hated it.

  Sawyer drove and Olivia gave him directions. He’d been able to anticipate a couple of the turns, but once he got into town, he had no idea which way took him to the medical building on South Street. Olivia guided him to the parking lot in the back. She seemed tense again, and he looked over at her as he turned off the engine.

  He was glad for the company because it made this appointment feel less intense. Truth be told, he was nervous about what the doctor would say. But after an examination, the doctor crossed her arms and nodded.

  “You’re coming along,” she said. “You’ll need more rest, but you’ll heal. I’m glad to see how much of your memory has returned already. It’s very promising. Just take it easy for a
bit and give yourself the time.”

  “Is there anything I can do to hurry up the process?” Sawyer asked.

  “Afraid not. Just some good old-fashioned rest. Can you manage it?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  Everyone around him seemed pretty intent on making that happen, anyway.

  “If you have any headaches, nausea, dizziness or increased confusion, come back,” the doctor said. “Is there someone I can repeat that to who’s with you today?”

  Even the doctor was expecting him to have a babysitter with him.

  “My friend, Olivia, is here,” he replied. “She’s an ER nurse, so...”

  “Olivia Martin?”

  “Yeah, that’s her.” Sawyer was mildly surprised, but maybe he shouldn’t be.

  “That’s excellent. I’ll walk you out and fill her in. But I’m pleased with your progress.”

  Olivia sat in the waiting room, holding a pile of blocks in her lap. For the moment, both Bella and Lizzie seemed focused on the blocks. After a brief hello, the doctor repeated her instructions, and they were allowed to leave.

  “So you’re doing well, then,” Olivia said as she picked up Lizzie. Sawyer scooped Bella into his arms, and she settled against his chest, her animal-cracker-scented breath tickling his cheek. They paused to make sure they weren’t forgetting anything, then headed for the door.

  “Yeah, I’m doing fine,” he said as they stepped outside, away from anyone who might overhear them. He felt more relieved about the doctor’s diagnosis than he cared to admit right now. “Or I will be. I guess you were right about taking it easy.”

  “Amazing.” She laughed and shot him a rueful look. “So you’ll actually relax?”

  “I don’t know if I can promise that much,” he retorted.

  “Fine. I won’t rub it in.”

  “Thanks.” He adjusted his daughter in his arms as they stepped out into the cool afternoon air. “So why don’t I buy you lunch? I feel like I owe you that much.”

  She nodded. “Sure. Thank you.”

  He scanned the street, looking at the shops: a dry cleaner, a card store, a jewelry store with a sale sign in the window... He was looking for some details to spark a memory—something to ground him. A diner up ahead felt familiar.