by Jami Alden
"Not so much a soft heart as a guilty conscience," she said with a wry smile. "After June left and we were talking it up, Dad fessed up to a drunken—at least on his part—indiscretion with June not too long after my mom left. Claims she ambushed him one night in his office after he'd been drowning his sorrows in Glenlivet."
Dylan's eyebrows shot to his hairline. Sadie knew what he was thinking. June might have been over a decade years younger at the time, but even back then she'd been a plump, grandmotherly figure. About as far as you could get from a femme fatale.
"All I know is after a day of having to do our own cooking, Dad will be motivated to find someone to replace her."
Two days later, her father requested that she join him in his office after lunch. She didn't think anything could surprise her more than finding out June was a felon with designs on her father. Until her father dropped a wholly unexpected bombshell.
"I'm selling Pete a seventy percent stake in the ranch."
"What?" Sadie asked, feeling like the earth had suddenly flipped on its axis. "Why would you do that? You love this place - it's your life. Pete has been after you for years to partner up, and you've always said no."
"That's true," her father conceded, his jaw set. "But let's face it, I'm not getting any younger, and even if the doctors say I'm mostly recovered, my health will never be what it was. And now that PJ and his wife are splitting up, he's going to move back up here and help run things." Pete's son PJ, or Pete Junior, was five years older than Sadie and had moved to his wife's family's spread in central Wyoming when they'd married ten years ago. "And, then there's the money situation."
"But it's fine now. I can keep making payments on the loan until the payment for the hay comes through—"
"This way I can pay off the loan, and pay you back for what you've already put in."
"I didn't ask to be paid back," Sadie said softly.
"I know you didn't," her father said gruffly. "And I appreciate that."
"I just can't believe you'd make this decision without even talking to me."
"But it works out so much better for you this way," he said, seeming genuinely confused that she was upset. "This saves you the trouble of selling it when I finally kick the bucket. You get the money now instead of later."
"I don't care about the money," Sadie snapped. "And the only one who ever decided I was incapable of running this place is you."
"I never thought you were incapable," he said, his palm hitting the desk.
"Could have fooled me," she said, hunching back against her chair, arms crossed. "Ever since I was a kid, you made no secret you would never let me run this place because I was a girl."
"That was part of it, yes."
She couldn't suppress an eye roll. "Welcome to the twenty-first century."
"You've seen since you've been here, the work is hard, backbreaking at times. It's one thing to do it for a few months, even a few years, but do you really want to sign up for a life of this, Sadie?"
She couldn't say, with all her heart, that the answer was yes. And with all the hard work and challenges they faced year to year, she knew it had to be if she had any business taking over for her father.
But, childish though she knew it was, something inside her ached at not even being asked.
"I've never thought you were incapable. Even if I did, you've proven since the day you got here that you could take over for me if I'd just get the hell out of your way," he said with a wry smile. "But almost since you could walk you've had your nose buried in a book when you weren't parked in front of a computer. You've got a brain in that head that knows things I couldn't ever begin to understand, and you need to use it to follow your passion, not mine.
"I got this place into such a mess, and I don't think I could have pulled it out without your help. But you've been stuck here with me long enough. Now that the doctors have cleared me to get back to work, and with PJ coming on to pick up the slack, it's time for you to get back to what you're supposed to be doing."
Sadie left his office, telling herself she should feel relieved that the heavy burden of the ranch's survival and her father's health had finally been lifted. Yet all she could focus on was the unspoken, perhaps unintentional message behind her father's decision.
I don't need you anymore.
She went downstairs to her own office, forcing the self-pitying thought from her head. She opened up her email to find dozens of messages from her clients, as well as a message from Tucker, asking if she'd had time to think over his offer.
Dad is right. You need to get on with your real life. Not only are you not necessary here, Dylan has his medical evaluation in a few days, and after that he'll be gone. And even if he weren't, he's made no bones about the fact he doesn't want anything long term.
She hit reply on Tucker's message. It was time for her to make her own plans.
###
A few nights later Sadie and Dylan joined Damon, Ellie, Josh, Molly, Adele, Brady, and Dylan's parents at Adele's. The gathering was in part a send off for Dylan and Brady, who were both leaving the following morning—Dylan for his medical eval in Colorado, and Brady who was heading to Idaho to deal with his still undefined family emergency.
It was also a chance for Molly, Ellie, and Adele to show off what they'd learned under Brady's tutelage, as they would be taking over the reins in the kitchen for however long Brady was absent.
"Is it OK?" Molly asked anxiously, gesturing at the plate of summer tomatoes, homemade mozzarella, and fresh basil that remained mostly untouched in front of Sadie. "The cheese is too firm, isn't it?" she said before Sadie could answer. "I had such a hard time getting the curd to form, but I had already thrown out two batches and wasted so much milk—"
"It's excellent," Brady said, as he forked up his final mouthful.
"Really?" Molly, said, her face lighting up with a mixture of relief and delight.
"It's awesome," Sadie confirmed, and cut a small piece from the stack on her plate. In truth, Sadie couldn't appreciate the juicy tomatoes or the creaminess of the fresh cheese, not when her stomach was pulled tight in a knot. Soon, Dylan would be cleared for active duty. And as soon as that happened, it would be a matter of days before he left for good.
You're leaving too. The reminder didn't make her feel any better.
Everyone oohed and ahhed over the food. Even Molly's fiancé, when he was prompted by Brady to look up from his cell phone.
Course after course was served. Sadie dutifully forced down several bites. She kept a smile pasted on her face, laughed when appropriate. But all she could think of was that her "fun" with Dylan was fast coming to an end.
And she was nowhere near ready to let him go.
At the end of the meal, which everyone agreed was on par with anything Brady would have put in front of them, Brady raised his glass of Syrah, which Ellie had chosen specially to accompany the main course of bison ribeye with blue cheese compound butter she'd prepared. "A toast to Ellie, Adele, and Molly, who have managed to make me obsolete."
"I wouldn't go that far," Molly said, her cheeks flushed from the wine and the praise as she raised her glass.
"And let's drink to Dylan," Damon raised his glass. "Who, God willing, will be saving the world from the bad guys as soon as humanly possible."
Dylan smiled and raised his glass of water—no wine for him, as he'd cut out alcohol for the week leading up to his physical exam—and clinked it against his brother's wine glass. "Can't happen soon enough."
Across the table, Sadie caught Vivian's gaze. Though she was smiling proudly, Sadie also saw deep worry and a sadness that matched her own.
"I have some exciting news to share," Sadie blurted out, hoping that if she talked she could distract herself from the tears burning in her throat. "You're looking at the new Vice President of ShopToYou's mobile apps division. I start next month." Over the past week, she'd had several discussions with Cynthia Chan, ShopToYou's founder. After reviewing Sadie's work and checking her
references, she'd offered Sadie the position earlier this morning.
There was a wave of congratulations, then Molly asked softly, "So that means you're moving back to San Francisco?"
Sadie nodded and drained her wine glass. "I plan to head out at the end of next week so I have time to find a place and get settled in before work starts."
"Wow, it's like, everyone is picking up and leaving," Molly said with a little quiver in her voice. She stood up from her chair "Will you excuse me? I need to go plate dessert."
An awkward silence fell over the table as all eyes turned to Josh. His head was bent toward the phone in his lap as he texted someone, oblivious to his fiancée's upset.
"Josh," Ellie snapped, before Sadie could speak.
His head jerked up, his expression dazed as though he'd forgotten where he was.
"Aren't you going after her?" Sadie prodded.
His brow furrowed in confusion. "She doesn't need my help with dessert."
He turned his attention back to his phone, missing the look of pure disgust Brady aimed in his direction.
Ellie and Adele scooted their chairs back, but Sadie raised her hand. "I'll go talk to her."
She walked back to the kitchen, sadness pinching at her gut when she found Molly scooping ice cream into white porcelain mugs, audibly sniffing.
"What are you making?" Sadie asked.
"Affrogato," Molly said tightly, her red-rimmed eyes filled with sadness and accusation. "It sounds fancy but it's just vanilla ice cream with espresso poured on top."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but I just decided to take the job a couple of days ago." She'd known Molly would take it hard, which was why she hadn't told her immediately.
"I should have figured," Molly said. "Now that everything is back on track, and your dad selling out to Pete..." she shrugged. "I was just hoping you'd stay longer."
"Ellie can help you with the wedding planning," Sadie offered.
"It's not that." Molly shook her head. "It's been so great having you close again. Getting to see you all the time."
"We'll still see each other. You can come visit anytime."
"It's not the same," Molly said and removed a small metal espresso pot from the stove. "You have all your cool San Francisco friends and I'm like your country bumpkin friend from back home. Waiting around for Josh to finally pull the trigger while everyone moves on to bigger and better things."
"You don't have to wait for him. You could move. You could do something different."
"How? Even if I wanted to, I can't just up and leave, especially now that Brady's taking off for God knows how long." She shook her head and gave a watery chuckle. "Don't listen to me. I'm really excited for you. I'm just feeling sorry for myself because I'll miss you so much."
Sadie crossed over and wrapped her arms around the woman who was as close to a sister as she would ever have. "I'll miss you too," she said, choking back her own tears.
"You may be ditching me, but you're still on the hook to be my maid of honor," Molly said, smiling as she brushed at her tears. "And you better throw me one rager of a bachelorette party."
###
"You're awfully quiet tonight," Dylan said later as they walked into his cabin.
She shrugged. "It's weird, I have the same feeling like I used to get when summer vacation was over. Now the fun is over and it's time to get back to regular life."
He pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his "It's not over yet. There's still time for some fun."
Even as she melted into him and let him lead her into the bedroom, she felt a little stab of grief. Fun. That's all they would ever have.
Still, his touch tonight was different. Slower. Deliberate. As though he wanted to draw it out as long as possible.
As though he was making a memory.
When he finally slid inside her, as deep as he could possibly go, he held himself there for several minutes, feeding her slow, deep kisses, savoring the feel of their joined bodies before the hunger took over.
By the time he started to move, Sadie was so keyed up it only took a few strokes before she was coming around him, her arms and legs wrapped around him as though she could keep him there forever.
His own release followed quickly, his fingers twining with hers as he groaned against her neck. He rolled to the side, cradling her against him. "Are you crying?"
Until he said it she didn't even realize that tears were streaming down her cheeks and dripping onto his chest.
She swallowed hard, tried to compose herself. "I'm sorry," she said finally. "It's just—" She swallowed back a sob. "I'm really going to miss you."
"I'm going to miss you too," he said, stroking her hair back from her cheeks.
She knew he was just saying it. Or even if he meant it, once he was back in action, thousands of miles away, she would be nothing but a distant, fond memory.
"I'll still have a few days left, and even after..." his voice trailed off.
"What?" she said after he was silent for several seconds.
"I'll be gone a lot," he said finally. "But when I am back stateside, wherever I'm stationed, it won't be too far for one of us to hop on a plane."
Her heart jumped in her chest. Was he saying he wanted to commit to a long distance relationship? That he wanted to be with her? She took a deep breath, ordered herself not to get carried away, when he might be hitting her up for nothing more than a couple of stateside booty calls before he found someone else to fill his bed. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying..."
In the dim light, she could see him staring intently at the ceiling as his hand drifted up and down her back.
"I'm saying," he continued, searching for the right words. "You're acting like we have to say goodbye for good. Maybe it doesn't have to be that way."
A thrill shot through, her heart beating so hard she could barely hear what he said next. "I'm not asking you to commit to me—that wouldn't be fair. But maybe we could see each other, see what happens."
"Once I start my job, I'll be so busy I won't have time for a love life, so every once in awhile is about I could manage anyway. So whenever you're around, I'll be around—" she clamped her lips shut, realizing she was on the verge of sounding desperate. "I would love it if we could visit each other."
###
True to form, Dylan's eyes popped open after only a few hours of sleep. Tonight, he not only had the usual demons of his memories to deal with, he also had the anxiety twisting in his gut, making his heart hammer in his chest.
Along with the voice in his head that constantly tormented him with doubt.
What if you don't get cleared? What if you're a lot more fucked up than you want to believe?
For the past month, he'd been able to push it to the background, drown it out with work, his writing, and the unexpected but welcome indulgence in Sadie's company.
But for the past week, as he'd geared up for tomorrow, the voice had grown louder and louder until it was with him all the time. Echoing his deepest fears. Making him face the possibility that things might not go the way he wanted—needed—them to go.
Next to him, Sadie stirred, lifting a sleepy hand to settle on his chest. "You okay?" she said sleepily. "Your heart is racing," she flattened her hand against it, as though she could slow it down.
"I'm fine," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Just thinking about things."
She snuggled closer, and within seconds her breath resumed the deep, steady rhythm of slumber. He watched her sleep, immediately felt a wave of calm course through him.
He was a selfish bastard, he thought with a pang of guilt. After all his deliberating and reminding himself how unfair it was to keep her tied to him when he couldn't make any promises, she made him feel too good.
Even though their lives were moving in different directions, he wasn't ready to let her go.
Chapter 16
Dylan would have thought that his years of combat experience would have tau
ght him how life could change in the matter of seconds.
The day the bomb sent shrapnel tearing into his body and killing his friend would have prepared him for facing his worst fears.
Yet nothing he'd confronted in the past could have prepared him for today. For having his entire future ripped away in the time it took the Medical Officer to say a meager five words.
Not fit for worldwide deployment.
His SO tried to soften the blow, reminding him of how many INOCONUS opportunities there were.
Dylan sat there, feeling gutted, as the words bounced meaninglessly through his head. It took all his strength to keep a lid on his rage, to not start smashing things, to not scream at McWilliams that the wasn't about to spend the rest of his military career pushing papers behind a fucking desk.
It was over. Everything he'd worked for, everything he'd trained for had ended.
And the utterly fucked up thing was that it had nothing to do with his Goddamn leg. It was his Goddamn heart. In the course of his physical, Dylan had had one of his mini panic attacks, his heart racing out of control in a way that no amount of deep breathing would slow.
He'd tried to explain to the doctor it was just nerves—this was a big day for him and he had good reason to be anxious. But the doctor had immediately called in the specialists, and after a gamut of tests that had included everything from an EKG to extra blood work, they'd come back with their diagnosis.
Atrial Fibrillation.
The doctor's words came at him in fits and starts, like a staticky radio station. Requires ongoing treatment and monitoring. Not life threatening if treated properly.
Not life threatening, but it meant he would never again be in the kind of physical shape required of his role. He couldn't risk getting light headed and dizzy—or God forbid something more serious—when he was in the middle of an op. He could live a normal, healthy, civilian life. But he could no longer be deployed with his team.
He was barely conscious of getting into his car, starting the drive home. An aimless, unmoored feeling came over him, like nothing he'd ever experienced. Like there was nothing holding him to the ground, like he could float off into space at any moment.
