by Mia Ross
“It usually is. For me, anyway.”
She wasn’t sure what to make of that, so she decided to ignore it. “Want some?” she asked, offering the mug.
When he hesitated, she thought he’d refuse, but he took it from her. “Thanks.” He swallowed some coffee with obvious difficulty and pushed the mug back at her as if it held something poisonous. “What’s in that? Frosting and whipped cream?”
“Creamer and sugar,” she answered, taking a sip to prove it wasn’t nearly as bad as he made it out to be.
“Any coffee at all?”
“Sure. At the bottom,” she added with a smile.
He looked as if he hadn’t slept a wink all night, and she was hoping to lift his spirits with some humor. Not that it should matter, considering the way he’d treated her. The problem was that it just wasn’t in her nature to stand by and let someone suffer. Her supervising partner had knocked her for that very thing on her last performance appraisal. He’d called it “excessive sympathy.” She called it being human.
Shaking his head, Matt gave her a flicker of the lopsided grin she remembered from high school. “Lemme guess. You’re one of those hot-fudge-sundae-in-my-coffee types.”
“Mmm, sounds perfect. Don’t tell me. You’re one of those high-test, straight-up caffeine types.”
“Most men are.”
“I know lots of guys who like gourmet coffee,” the lawyer in her had to argue.
“Your boyfriend likes it that way?”
“I don’t have one.” She had no intention of telling anyone in Harland about David. She’d left him—and those awful memories—behind in Boston. That was exactly how she wanted things to stay.
Matt grinned at her. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Because you’re a cynic who can’t see beyond Friday night.”
“At least I enjoy Friday night,” he returned evenly. “I’m not chained to a desk somewhere waiting for my life to start.”
Appalled by the very personal attack, Caty didn’t know what to say. She glared up at him, but he deflected it with an I’m-smarter-than-you-think-I-am look.
“Go ahead,” he goaded. “Say it.”
“Not in a million years.”
“Okay,” he conceded with a chuckle. “But I know what you’re thinking. It’s written all over that pretty face of yours.”
She knew he was baiting her, but she wasn’t a trout. Inwardly seething, she cautioned herself against getting too close to this guy. He might not realize it, but he was now her client. That meant she had to be friendly but professional.
Tucker doubled back and ran circles around them, flopping on the ground so Matt could give him a belly rub.
“I’m real sorry I didn’t remember you,” he said while he scratched behind the Lab’s ears.
The quiet apology cooled her temper, and she decided to give him a break. “That’s okay. I was pretty forgettable back then. Invisible, more like.”
Matt glanced over his shoulder. “Not anymore.”
Feeling her cheeks start to burn, she turned away, pretending to watch Tucker bound back into the tall grass. “So this was Ethan’s favorite place. Why?”
“We’d have lunch here sometimes, him and John and me,” he explained. “Y’know, like they used to in the old days. We’d eat and talk, mostly about nothing.”
“That sounds nice.”
“It was.”
Matt seemed so distant from his family, Caty was amazed to learn how much he valued that simple memory. She’d have thought he’d do his best to forget everything connected to Harland. It was nice to discover she was wrong.
In his next breath, all semblance of nicety vanished.
“But I have my own life now.” Stepping closer, he glowered down at her. “Did you and Dad consider that when you boxed me into this little trap?”
Caty recognized that he was trying to intimidate her, use his size and considerable muscle to make her give in. She couldn’t miss the shift in his phrasing, dropping the responsibility for his predicament squarely on her shoulders. Fortunately, she had a weapon or two he hadn’t counted on, and she brought them out now.
She stepped closer, shrinking the distance between them to show she wasn’t afraid of him. Well, maybe she was a little, but she could fake it.
“Don’t get testy with me, Sawyer. I’m on your side.”
He opened his mouth, but she narrowed her eyes and cut him off with a warning look. Fortunately, he paid attention and settled for a disgusted sigh. It was insulting, but she let it go.
Pushing down her own frustration, she focused on the pain she knew he was feeling and softened her expression just a bit. “I’m trying to be patient with all of you. You’ve had a terrible shock, and I understand that. I’ll do my best to take some of the burden off you, but I can’t make it go away completely. The law works the way it does to protect everything Ethan worked so hard for. You have to be patient with me, too.”
That wasn’t what he’d wanted to hear, and he planted his hands on his hips like a petulant child, looking anywhere but at her. Quit being such a baby, she wanted to say, but she held back. It wouldn’t go over well.
When he did meet her eyes, she saw something she hadn’t expected. Fear. So quietly she almost didn’t hear, he said, “I don’t know what to do.”
Her heart tripped over the raw emotion in those few words, and she swallowed hard against the sudden lump in her throat. Hoping she appeared calm and dependable, she willed her most professional tone into her voice. “I know. I’ll help you all I can.”
The thought of working so closely with Matt didn’t thrill her, but she simply couldn’t leave him with the accordion envelope and letter of instructions that she gave most of her clients. Once the immediate crisis of bringing in the harvest was over, he’d have some big-time decisions to make.
Balancing his own wishes against the obligation he felt to his family simply wasn’t possible. He could put it off awhile, but eventually he’d have to choose between them. Someone was going to be incredibly disappointed.
* * *
After their little powwow, Matt and Caty headed inside for breakfast. As they came through the door, John and Lisa were already at the table and Marianne was dishing up some of the biggest omelets he’d ever seen.
“Where are the kids?” Matt asked, hoping they might give him a reprieve from the discussion he’d been dreading since Caty had outlined his father’s plans.
“The Millers invited them over to play, so I let them go,” Marianne replied as she set their plates on the table and sat down. “I thought we could use the time to talk things over.”
Perfect. Barely stifling a groan, he pulled out a chair for Caty and sat down next to her.
Marianne poured them both some coffee and set the pot on a cork pad.
“So, Matt,” she began. “How long are you planning to stay?”
The careless tone was completely fake, intended to throw him off his stride. Over the years she’d perfected it, and he’d felt himself tense up as soon as she opened her mouth.
Something nudged his boot underneath the kitchen table, and he glanced to his right to find Caty giving him the eye. She lifted her glass of orange juice and while she sipped, she shook her head just enough that he couldn’t miss it. He reminded himself they were all exhausted and more than a little on edge, trying to deal with something that had blindsided them all.
Matt wasn’t used to considering other people when he made his decisions, so this was an uncomfortable stretch for him. Hoping he looked reasonably calm and not scared to death, he looked at each of them in turn. “I haven’t decided yet. First I want y’all to tell me what you need from me.”
At a rare loss for words, his sisters traded confused looks.
For the first time he could remember, he knew how they felt.
“Nothing,” John assured him. “You’ve got a life to get back to, and you should go. I’ll figure something out.”
Lisa started to protest, but he silenced her with an uncharacteristically harsh look. She glared back before stabbing a fork into her untouched breakfast. She didn’t say anything else, though. Marianne was completely silent.
Oddly enough, his family’s unwillingness to ask Matt to stay was what made up his mind.
“Okay, here’s the plan.” When he had their attention, Matt continued. “I’ll stay through the fall to get things squared away here. Make sure all the crops get in, do a total maintenance round of the equipment, stuff like that. Beginning of November, we’ll sit down again and see how things look.”
“What about your job?” Lisa asked. “And your apartment?”
“It’s only three months, so I’m not worried about the rent.” That wasn’t entirely true, but right now it was the least of his concerns. “I’ll talk to my boss and see what he can do. If he can’t hold a spot for me, I’ll find another one.”
“Jobs are hard to come by these days,” Marianne reminded him.
“Thanks for the news flash.”
His sarcasm got him a saucy look. “I just meant that if things don’t work out in Charlotte, you’ll have a job here.”
There was no way he was returning to Harland permanently. The compromise he was proposing would take him dangerously close to the edge of his limit. He’d go nuts if there was no end to his stint as a full-time farmer.
Now wasn’t the time to dig in his heels, though. They’d all have to cooperate to finish out the harvest season. “My boss knows what’s going on, but for this I want to talk to him in person. At some point, I’ll go back to Charlotte to see him and pack.”
“When?” Marianne asked.
“When I can,” Matt replied evenly. “I know flexibility isn’t your favorite thing, but if this is gonna work, you have to cut me some slack.”
“And you have to give me something to work with,” she retorted. “I can’t keep this farm and our family on track if you’re going to just do your own thing all the time.”
The rigidity rubbed him the wrong way, but she did have a point. “I’ll do my best,” he promised.
“We all will,” John added, and Lisa nodded enthusiastically.
Relieved at the fairly easy agreement they’d come to, Matt dug into his omelet. Loaded with diced ham and cheddar cheese, it was the scallions that gave away the chef. “Ruthy was here, I see.”
“She brought a huge basket of food just a little while ago,” Marianne answered. “I told her it really wasn’t necessary, but she insisted her boys couldn’t work all day without a proper breakfast.”
“I love that woman,” Lisa said around a mouthful of cranberry muffin.
“Too bad she can’t teach you to cook,” John teased. “Then maybe somebody’d wanna marry you.”
“Plenty of guys want to marry me,” she informed him haughtily. “I just don’t want to marry them.”
“Y’know, there are no knights in shining armor anymore,” he said, only half joking.
“There’s still one around somewhere,” Lisa shot back. “I’ll find him eventually.”
“Good luck, darlin’.”
“Women don’t like nicknames like that,” Matt informed him, carefully avoiding Caty’s gaze. “Makes ’em think you can’t remember their name.”
Lisa pinned him with a suspicious glare. “You do it all the time.”
“Not anymore. I’ve been reformed.”
“By who?” she demanded.
In between bites, he nodded at Caty. “She straightened me out yesterday. Imagine, all these years I’ve been doin’ it wrong.”
John laughed, and Caty sighed. “Sorry, girls. I tried.”
“Takes a brave lady to tell Matt anything,” John said, still chuckling.
“No lack of guts in this one, that’s for sure,” Matt agreed. For some reason, the conversation came to a grinding halt. They could almost hear the squeal of brakes, and Matt flashed a look around the table. “What?”
“Nothing,” Lisa replied quickly, pouring herself some more juice.
Silence seldom reigned in the Sawyer kitchen, but it settled like a weird haze over the normally lively table. Caty jumped in to fill the awkward silence. “Matt, could I ask you a huge favor?”
“Shoot.”
“Could you drop me in town so I can pick up my car and get my stuff?”
“Sure.”
He pushed back his chair to stand, but when Marianne cleared her throat he reluctantly sank back down. He knew what was coming.
“We have some tough days coming up,” she said, looking at each of them in turn. “We’re going to need every bit of strength from everyone in this family to get through them, but I think we all know that won’t be enough.”
She took Lisa’s hand on one side and Caty’s on the other. John reached out for his brother’s hand, and Matt swallowed a groan. “Marianne—”
“You don’t have to believe, but the rest of us do,” she informed him haughtily, her nose actually tilted in the air a little. “As part of this family, I’m asking you to just sit there and keep your mouth shut for thirty seconds.”
In response, Matt folded his hands and rested them on the table in front of him. The others bowed their heads, and he forced himself to stay in his seat. He hated this kind of thing, but out of respect for them he kept quiet. If they needed this, he wouldn’t ruin it for them by reminding them that God had very selective hearing.
“Lord,” Marianne began, “please bless our family with the patience and courage we’ll need to weather this storm. Guide us with Your wisdom and help us do what’s best for all of us. And please,” she added in a quivering voice, “tell our parents we love them.”
As John and Lisa added their own sentiments, a small hand settled over his and gave a little squeeze. Caty hadn’t lifted her head, but he appreciated the kind gesture. Her hand was a distinct contrast to his own. Dainty and polished, it looked vulnerable next to his much larger one.
Then again, he’d learned there was nothing vulnerable about Caty McKenzie. In her own way, she was just as tough as he was. She didn’t back down when she probably should, and she did everything she could for people who needed her. Even when they didn’t deserve it.
When he’d all but begged for her help, he’d fully expected some kind of runaround about it not being her job. Or she wouldn’t have time, or some other excuse. When she’d agreed, a huge weight had lifted from his shoulders, and he’d felt that he could breathe again. There was something about her. More than sympathy, more than kindness, it was something he couldn’t quite define. Then it hit him.
He trusted her.
Wary by nature, it usually took him a long time to trust people, but Caty had earned his confidence in just a few short hours. By refusing to let him push her away, she’d proven she would stand firm when things got hard. That kind of attitude probably came in handy when you dealt with other people’s problems all day long.
He figured it also made her a real handful, which explained why she was single. No man in his right mind would get tangled up with a woman like her. Still, after so many years of relying only on himself, it was nice to know the spunky lawyer had his back.
“Amen,” Marianne finished, the others echoing her in hushed voices.
Matt unfolded his hands to find them white from clenching so hard. He rubbed them together and stood. “Ready when you are, Caty.”
He was halfway out the door when Marianne called his name. Braced for a scolding, he turned back. “What?”
She gave him a smile so rare, he’d forgotten wha
t it looked like. “Thank you.”
Some of the frost between them melted, and he returned the smile. “You’re welcome.”
* * *
When she heard the rock music coming from Matt’s truck stereo, Caty asked to change the station.
“Go ahead,” he replied. “I don’t really hear it anyway.”
She scanned until she found a popular local morning show, and he groaned. “You like country?”
“I like all kinds of music recorded in this century.”
“Perfect.”
“You said you don’t hear it,” she reminded him sweetly. “Would you like me to switch it back?”
“No, it’s fine.”
He did the male version of an eye roll, and she muted a laugh into a smile. When they got to the town square, she had to laugh. “My car looks kind of ridiculous, parked in the middle of nothing like that.”
“Just a little,” he agreed with a faint smile.
Before she could unlock the door, he came around to open it for her. These days, old-fashioned manners were hard to come by, and she’d gotten used to fending for herself. She had to admit, Matt’s chivalrous streak was pretty appealing. As if being darkly handsome and built like an oak tree wasn’t enough, she groused silently.
After she got out, he appraised her MG with an appreciative whistle. “This is one gorgeous car. How’d you get it?”
“My grandfather found it in a junkyard and towed it home with the parts in boxes. He restored it for me as a gift for finishing law school. He died a month later.” Her voice wavered, and she stopped talking. Her life had gone on, but it was still hard to face losing him.
“So it’s more than a set of wheels to you,” Matt said gently.
“A lot more.”
“Yeah, I get that. Never knew a woman that did, though.” Then he gave her a knowing look. “So…what’s the big secret?”
Her heart thudded to a stop. He lived in Charlotte, so it was possible he’d heard about it. Maybe some obscure article had shown up in the newspaper or online. The thought of it made her stomach turn. Falling back on her legal training, she counted to three and stalled.
