Fall To Pieces

by Jami Alden

  Though she didn't utter a word of it out loud, she saw how Molly's gaze flicked over to the other couple and back to Sadie.

  She sighed, hoping that it was only because Molly knew her so well that she could see just how pathetic Sadie was.

  When she got home, she poured herself a big glass of red wine and used it to wash down an over the counter sleep aid. While she should have been exhausted enough to go lights out as soon as her head hit the pillow, she didn't want to risk being awake to hear Dylan's truck rumbling up the drive hours from now.

  Or worse, not hearing the truck at all.

  It was unusually bright when she woke up, and she could hear muffled conversation between June and her dad outside of her bedroom door.

  Which was weird, because for the past week and a half she'd gotten up before June arrived at seven-thirty, and her dad rarely emerged from his room before eight.

  She picked up her phone, the last dregs of sleep disappearing in a surge of panic as she saw the time.

  Eight-thirty. She'd overslept by over two hours.

  She flung herself out of bed with a curse and stuffed her bare feet into running shoes as she ran out her bedroom door. She mumbled a good morning at her dad and June, who called something after her.

  Sadie waved her off and headed down the stairs and out the door to the barn. Some rational part of her brain tried to remind her that it wasn't a disaster for the horses to have to wait a little for their breakfast.

  But though her father had no expectation for her to take over his operation, from a very young age he had instilled in her that he expected her to work. And whatever chore she was assigned, from mucking stables to polishing saddles, to taking care of the morning feeding, he expected it to be executed perfectly according to his schedule.

  So even as she could acknowledge that much of her current panic was that of a child trying to avoid a parent's wrath, that didn't stop her from racing into the barn, murmuring apologies to the horses for being lax in her duty.

  She was so intent on her purpose, making a beeline for the hay bales stacked in the corner, that she didn't notice anyone was in the barn with her until a hand landed on her shoulder.

  Startled, she whirled around and would have tripped if Dylan hadn't caught her. His lips were moving, but she couldn't hear him over her heartbeat pounding in her head.

  "I'm sorry, what?" she said.

  "You don't have to feed the horses. I already took care of it."

  "You did?"

  "Yeah, I got up early to go work out. When I got back and didn't see you, I figured you were sleeping in."

  "Oh."

  He was silent a moment, as though expecting her to say more. At her continued silence he added, "I ran into Pete on his way out to the hay meadow and double checked that I gave everyone the right amounts. I hope that's okay?"

  She shook her head. "Of course it's okay. Thank you for doing that."

  "It's really not a big deal. I just figured, you've been working so hard, you could use the extra sleep."

  But it was a big deal to her. After months of burning the candle at both ends and the stress of wrangling her father, the idea that someone would do something, no matter how small, to make her life a little easier was enough to bring her almost to tears.

  Almost. She took a deep breath and told herself to stop being such a ninny. "Well, I really appreciate it. I must have forgotten to set my alarm last night," she said with a shaky laugh that morphed into a yawn.

  "I need some coffee," she said and smoothed her hair, suddenly self-conscious that she had come straight from bed, pillow mussed hair and all. Thankfully she'd slept in shorts and a baggy t-shirt which, while not flattering, didn't reveal much. "Want to join me?"

  At his initial hesitation, she quickly interjected, "I make my own. And I've even got a special stash of half and half tucked in the back of the refrigerator."

  "Sounds good." He smiled and followed her back into the house.

  "So you left early last night," he said as she spooned grounds into a filter and started the coffee brewing.

  He noticed. She immediately quashed the little thrill, reminding herself that was as meaningless as all the other flirty banter they'd exchanged on the dance floor at the Last Chance.

  "I was wiped," she said and retrieved two stoneware mugs from the cabinet, "and, well, planning to get up at six-fifteen. You and Colleen have fun?" She did her best to keep any of the acid churning in her stomach from leaching into her tone.

  "It was good to catch up," he said.

  Sadie filled the two mugs and retrieved her half and half, cleverly disguised in an empty carton of soy milk. At Dylan's nod she poured enough in each mug to turn the coffee a pale shade of tan.

  She handed him his coffee and took a sip of her own. "That can't be all you did," she said. even as she asked herself if she really wanted to go down this path with him.

  It was one thing to listen in on the gossip about him back in high school, and even throw it back at him now that they were adults. But did she really want to hear him say, flat out, that he'd slept with another woman last night?

  Though the answer was an emphatic "no," her mouth seemed determined to ignore her brain's advice. "I figured you two were reliving prom night."

  He gave a shout of laughter. "Thankfully not, since prom night ended with her puking all over my lap on the way to the hotel."

  Sadie's mug froze half way to her lips, her eyes wide. "No way."

  He laughed and shook his head. "I saved up for the room and everything, then all of my big plans went to shit when Jennifer Kramer snuck a bottle of Everclear into the dance. An hour in, Colleen was so drunk I knew I had to get her out of there before she got busted."

  Sadie chuckled. "All we heard was that you two spent the night alone in a hotel room."

  "I would have brought her home, but she didn't want her parents to find out. And I couldn't leave her alone. She passed out and I spent the rest of the night watching a Cops marathon."

  The truth was a lot of guys would have left her, or worse. "That was awfully chivalrous of you. And you didn't even tell anyone what really happened."

  He shrugged. "She was embarrassed. And at the time it was better for everyone to think we'd spent the night fooling around than for her to get busted for drinking. If that got out, she would have been kicked off the cheerleading squad."

  He leaned his butt against the counter and took another sip of his coffee. "Besides," he said with a grin and a glimmer in his eyes that made her stomach feel a little wobbly, "I had my own ulterior motive. I was hoping if I acted like a gentleman and kept her secret she'd let me get in her pants later."

  Sadie cocked an eyebrow as she drained her mug. "And."

  "Never happened," he said with a shrug. "I think the memory of me covered in her barf scarred us both too much."

  Sadie laughed and went to the coffee pot for a refill. "Seems like enough time has passed for you to get over it. Maybe now you'll finally get your chance." There, if she just talked enough about him sleeping with other women, acknowledged it out loud, she would stop feeling like she was getting punched in the chest every time the thought crossed her mind.

  Once again, those broad shoulders rose and fell. "Colleen's great," he said. His grin faded a little. "But what I wanted in high school isn't what I want now."

  Her gaze locked with his, and the warmth she imagined she saw there sent a wave of answering heat rippling through her.

  Which she immediately followed with a mental bitch slap. Just because he doesn't want Colleen, doesn't mean he wants you, dummy.

  She drained her cup and walked over to the sink to rinse it. "Thanks again for helping out this morning." She turned to him and smiled. "One less thing for me to take care of before I get to work on my other job."

  "Speaking of." Dylan stepped up beside her and placed his own mug in the sink. He was so close she could feel the warmth radiating from his body, smell the soap he'd used mingling with the earthy
scent of his skin.

  She fixed her gaze out the window over the sink, afraid if she turned she wouldn't be able to keep from burying her nose in that too tempting spot where his neck and shoulder met.

  "You need more help around here."

  "Understatement of the year."

  "I was thinking I could put in some hours."

  He would be around more than he already was? It sounded simultaneously like the best and worst thing ever. "What about your dad? The shop?"

  He turned and leaned his hip against the sink. "He doesn't need me full time, not even close. He's just throwing me stuff to keep me busy. I figure I can be a lot more help here, especially working with Pete on the haying."

  "Have you ever done work like that before?"

  His thick brows pulled into a mock frown. "It's not rocket science. Besides, I figure if I can learn to operate a Bradley armored vehicle I can figure my way around farming equipment.”

  "You really want to spend your last few weeks here working as a ranch hand?"

  His lips quirked into a half smile that had her toes curling against the insoles of her sneakers. "As long as I'm stuck killing time here in Big Timber, the least I can do is help out a friend."

  Chapter 7

  Sadie left the barn that morning feeling like a thousand pound weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Which was silly, when she considered that even with Dylan working full time, it was going to take a miracle to get all the mowing and baling done in the next week to make it in time to ship down south.

  But she couldn't help thinking about the way Dylan had been, almost sweet, a word she never would have applied to him in the past. Funny, yes. Sexy, hell yes. But as long as she'd known him, he'd always been the type to follow his own program, look out for number one, namely him.

  Not in an asshole way, just a typical guy way.

  Maybe he was looking to pay her back for all the free tutoring she'd given him in high school. Maybe he wanted a change of scenery from his father's garage. Though he was obviously skilled, she remembered all the way back in high school how he'd chafed whenever he'd had to help.

  Whatever the reason, she was grateful.

  As long as I'm stuck here in Big Timber, the least I can do is help out a friend.

  She ignored the pinch in her chest. Despite the heat that had crackled between them on the dance floor the other night, Dylan seemed determined to keep her locked firmly in the friend zone.

  It was for the best, she reminded herself as she settled down in front of her computer to work on a proposal for a new client. No matter how often she fantasized about having a hot, steamy fling with her high school crush—and she didn't kid herself that it would be anything more—logically she knew that sleeping together was bound to complicate things. At least in her own head.

  As amazing as the sex promise to be, she had enough going on in her life right now without adding any drama on the personal side.

  She settled into work, easily today now that some of the distractions and stress had been eased.

  For several hours she worked, engrossed, not looking up from her screen until she heard a tap on her office door.

  It was June. She held the handset to the house phone in her hand, and a deep frown creased her forehead. "Sadie, it's someone from the bank."

  Fifteen minutes later, Sadie hung up the phone, her stomach twisted in knots, every feeling of well being drained right out of her.

  "Dad, what did you do?" She found her father in the living room, reclined in the worn brown corduroy La-Z-Boy her mother had spent years of their marriage trying to get rid of. With his newspaper in front of his face and a mug of coffee steaming on the table beside him, he acted like a man who didn't have a care in the world.

  Like a man who hadn't jeopardized the future of this entire operation.

  After a lot of hemming and hawing, she finally got her father to admit that late last year he'd taken out a loan using the ranch as collateral. The money from the loan had been used to pay off Denise, his second wife, a marriage so brief Sadie had only met the woman once.

  Sadie clenched her teeth against a scream of frustration. "What about the prenup?" When her father had announced he was marrying again, Sadie had convinced her father to draw up a prenup this time, seeing as how he'd had to pay her mother a hefty sum in their settlement.

  At least she thought she'd convinced him.

  "Denise wouldn't hear of it," he said gruffly. "And how could I blame her? What woman wants to marry a man who's already planning the divorce?"

  Maybe a woman who's twenty-five years younger than you and sees a quick route to a meal ticket.

  "I don't know why you should care," he barked. "It's my money. I should be able to give it to whoever I want."

  "I care," Sadie ground out, "because I've been working my ass off to help keep this place running while you recover, and now because of this you're this close"—she held up her thumb and forefinger—"to losing it all."

  "What?" He snapped down the footrest of the recliner so quickly he nearly launched himself out of the chair..

  Sadie immediately regretted storming in here with a head full of steam as her father's ruddy complexion went ash gray. While well on his way to recovery, Jim was still in shaky condition health wise.

  She took a deep breath and settled onto the couch. As clearly and calmly as possible, she explained the situation. "You've missed the last three payments on the loan," she explained. "If we miss another one, the bank will be within their rights to start foreclosure proceedings."

  "That's not possible." His voice was hoarse, and in that moment he looked every second of his sixty-four years. "I worked with the bank to have everything withdrawn automatically every month, to pay the loan, the property taxes, everything. There should be plenty to cover the payments."

  "I still need to do more digging to find out exactly what's going on, but according to the bank there haven't been sufficient funds to make the payments. They said they sent out notices."

  "I must have missed them," her dad said, sounding shell-shocked.

  Sadie gave herself a mental kick for not looking into the ranch's books sooner. But when she'd come home after the heart attack, both Pete and June had assured her that the business side was running smoothly. Other than writing the occasional check to a vendor or making a deposit, there was nothing she needed to do but focus on helping Jim get healthy.

  "I have plenty of cash in my savings to cover the payments we've missed," she said with a sigh. "But I can't keep paying indefinitely."

  Not unless she wanted to pour all of her hard earned income into the ranch.

  She left her father with a pat on the knee, offering as much reassurance as she could. Then she went up to his office to gather up all the paperwork and documentation she could to try to figure out where the ranch finances had gotten so off track.

  And if there was any possible way to fix it.

  Several hours later, after sifting through piles of bank records, tax bills, and invoices that may or may not have been paid to the ranch, she was forced to admit defeat.

  She called Molly, the only person she could think of who might be able to untangle this mess of accounting. She wrote down all of the additional forms and documentation Molly told her to request from the banks and the vendors, emailed what she could, and boxed up the rest to drop off in the morning.

  By the time June called her down to supper, she had a headache building at the base of her skull and the knot in her stomach diminished her appetite for June's cooking even more than usual.

  She was surprised but oddly relieved to run into Dylan on the way to the dining room.

  "June cornered me," he said at Sadie's expression. "Wouldn't let me say no."

  Sadie offered a feeble smile.

  "Everything okay?" He caught her arm. The warm touch, combined with the warm concern in his eyes made her want to fall against his chest and not let go.

  "Not really," she said and turned and walked
into the dining room.

  Once everyone was seated, Sadie said, "I'm afraid we have some serious business matters to discuss."

  Her father immediately protested. "I don't see why we need to air the dirty laundry in front of the help."

  "Help?" Sadie said recoiling. "Pete is your best friend and has been your partner since the beginning, and June has been here so long she's outlasted two wives. That makes her family in my book. And Dylan," she said, her gaze drifting over him.

  His expression was wary, his shoulders stiff, as if he was wondering if he shouldn't bolt while he had the chance.

  Oddly, just looking at him made her relax a bit. "Dylan has offered to help us out for no other reason than that he wants to. And right now, we need all the help we can get."

  She proceeded to explain the financial mess they now found themselves in.

  "That makes no sense," Pete protested. "We got twice as much for the yearlings as last year. And with our projected stud fees there's no way we could be in the red."

  "I don't know either," Sadie replied. "I'm sending everything over to Molly Tanner—she's got an accounting degree and does all the bookkeeping for the restaurant and Damon's other businesses. It's going to take her a while to pull everything together. In the meantime, June, I'm going to need you to watch all of the household expenses. Pete, I haven't kept up on the horses. I know we have our regular buyers, but unless they step up and commit, we'll have to start taking some calls from new clients."

  Jim and Pete grumbled while Sadie bit her tongue. She understood that a lot of their business was built on relationships. There were folks who'd been buying stock from Thorntons’ for generations. Based on handshake deals and the faith that the sales would go through eventually. Until now, they'd been able to operate exclusively that way, keeping their circle small and not having to deal with too many so-called outsiders.

  "And on that same vein, Pete, you're going to have to tell Belkin that the Bar 12 has dibs on our hay."

  "I don't know who you think you are, missy, coming in here, telling us how we're going to run things," Pete spat out.