by Leigh Riker
Olivia didn’t want to be a wet blanket, and her father was always more than generous, but she imagined she’d be finding stray pieces in the carpet or under chairs for the next year, long after Nick’s interest had moved on to something else.
She focused on setting up the coffee maker, her back to Liza as if she was putting up a fence. “Did the newlyweds leave?”
“Early this morning. We stopped over as they were loading the car—reloading, I should say. Blossom said that seems to be a habit of hers, setting out, then coming right back, but that’s some kind of in-joke with them. They’re still worried about Nick. Logan promised to call every day—unless someone calls him first.”
“I hope they have a good time.” Olivia hadn’t forgotten Doc’s house call yesterday, or how he’d prodded Sawyer to fill in with his patients while he and Ida were gone. In Nick’s case, she wasn’t sure she’d let him.
“I wanted Nick and Everett to spend time together,” Liza said, gesturing toward the living room. “They’re so cute.” She glanced at the coffee maker. And came to the point. Liza had an uncanny ability to see Olivia’s innermost thoughts. “Are you holding it against me that your father married me?”
“Of course not.”
Liza lowered her gaze. “That isn’t the impression I’ve been getting.”
Voices drifted into the kitchen, Everett’s low and amused, Nick’s higher pitched and excited. The coffee maker burbled away on the counter while Olivia counted minutes until she could pour two cups and find something neutral to talk about. Thankfully, Liza didn’t press the issue. Not that one, anyway.
“Everett wants to know Nick better, and I think Nick wants that, too. I must be a bit harder for him to figure out,” Liza admitted. “Maybe I need to suggest a name for him to call me. I’m not sure I like the idea of being Grandma.”
Well, that was an honest statement, but Olivia decided not to say anything. Had Liza meant her, as well? That Olivia didn’t know what to make of her, either?
Liza mused aloud. “Maybe Gi-Gi, Nana...no, or the French grand-mère.” Liza threw up both hands. “Anyway... Olivia, you didn’t say one word to your father when we came in.”
“I said his name.”
“Yes, and every time you do, I can see the sadness in his eyes.” She hesitated. “I can see the anger in yours.”
“I’m not the one who broke up our family,” she said. “You weren’t here then—you don’t know how that hurt. It still does. Because of what my parents decided, I had to leave the only home I’d ever known.”
Liza’s voice cooled. “Your mother was half of that decision, at least. I don’t pretend to know exactly what happened between them, but you don’t really know, either. You were still a child, Olivia. And from what Everett has told me, your mom insisted that you live with her. She made it nearly impossible for you to spend time at Wilson Cattle.”
Olivia fought a wave of regret. Until recently, she’d treated Logan much the same way when it came to seeing Nick.
“Do you think your father didn’t want you there?” Liza asked. “I know he did—and every time you turn your back on him, he hurts a little more.”
Olivia winced. “You make me sound cold. I’m not, Liza.” Her stepmother’s words had shocked, even moved her. “But I suppose you’re right. There’s still that little girl inside me who hasn’t forgotten. Most of my memories of Everett are like that big bag he brought today for Nick. Beautiful presents, clothes he thought I’d like but that were too small for me by the time I got them.” She could see Liza’s point. Maybe that wasn’t his fault, but... “And then there were the promises,” she said, “to see me again soon. To have me at Wilson Cattle for the whole summer next year or every Christmas.”
“At least he tried.”
She hadn’t thought of that before. With her mother’s constant criticisms, Olivia’s heart had gradually hardened until she didn’t need any more obstacles put in her path to visit Wilson Cattle, or him.
“Your mother,” Liza began, then stopped. “No, this isn’t my place. It’s for you to make peace with Everett, to finally understand—as an adult—what happened to your family then. To be able to move on, to make something new.” She paused. “Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but...you’ve done so with Logan. You and he are in a better place now, for Nick’s sake—and your own.” She touched the back of Olivia’s hand. “Please, try to do the same with your father.”
* * *
SAWYER HAD SPENT the morning doing chores in the barn. When he’d come in, Cyclone had ambled over to, well, if not to greet him, at least to see who was there. Sawyer had left him an apple and a few carrots. A blatant attempt to win him over, perhaps, but also a sort of apology. He’d spoken to the vet earlier and scheduled an appointment. Cyclone’s days as a stallion in the making were numbered.
Then at the house, he’d realized how quiet and empty it seemed. Enraptured by each other, Logan and Blossom were headed again for the West Coast. Everett and Liza Wilson had stopped by at breakfast time to wish them well. Nick and Olivia were gone, too. Sam had ridden out with Willy and Tobias to look for a stray bison cow and her calf, which had wandered off. They hadn’t invited him.
Almost glad to get away for an hour or two, Sawyer decided to drive into town. Logan had said he needed to buy more feed but Sawyer didn’t stop at the ag store first. As he passed the storefront medical clinic on Main Street, he noted it was open for business, and Doc’s words stopped playing in his head.
He wouldn’t be needed after all. He probably wouldn’t see Olivia again before he left the ranch to return to his clinic overseas...or, if he couldn’t, to go somewhere else.
In front of Annabelle’s Diner, he swung into an open parking spot. Sam had promised to cook dinner tonight, but at lunchtime, Sawyer’s stomach was growling. At the Circle H, he’d decided against making himself a sandwich. He wanted more than that, and he’d missed eating good food that hadn’t been fixed over a hot plate.
The popular local restaurant bustled with activity. Every table was filled. A slender brown-haired woman holding a glass coffee carafe spotted him standing in the entrance. She broke into a broad smile, then rushed over to him. “Sawyer! Is it really you?”
More or less, he wanted to say. For a second, he didn’t recognize her. Then, “Annabelle Foster.” Why be surprised to find her here? “I haven’t seen you since graduation.”
They’d gone to school together in Barren. She’d been a class behind his, but they’d become friends and sometimes hung out in a group with Logan, Grey and Olivia.
With the coffeepot in hand, she gave him a one-armed hug. “I heard you were in town. For Logan’s wedding, I suppose.”
“I didn’t see you there.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I couldn’t get anyone to fill in here that day. I’m so sorry I missed it. Everyone says it was a beautiful wedding and the reception was lovely. We all like Blossom—and of course we love Logan. I hope they got my gift.”
He shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll be getting a thank-you note after they get home from their honeymoon.”
“In time for the baby’s birth,” she said, then leaned closer. “You’d think we’d never had a baby born here. Everyone on Main Street is excited. Sherry, who runs Baby Things across the street, has put together an entire layette, and Ida Baxter is knitting the most gorgeous afghan. It looks like a rainbow. We’re throwing Blossom a baby shower when she gets back.”
“That’s very nice of you. I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.”
“Blossom is one of us now.”
Sawyer looked into her green eyes. “And what about you? I mean, obviously you’re still at the diner.” Which her parents had named after her when she was a baby. “I remember you working here during high school. How are your parents?” Annabelle’s mother and father ran a tight ship. She’d misse
d her junior and senior proms to work, just as she’d missed Logan and Blossom’s wedding. Maybe nothing had changed.
Annabelle’s mouth tightened. “They’re both gone,” she said.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” In fact, he’d hoped Annabelle had left town by now to find a better life than she’d had living under her controlling parents’ thumbs.
“I inherited this place—that’s about all they left behind. As long as I can make a go of it—if the café at the other end of Main doesn’t drive me out of business with their new upscale dinner menu—then I guess I’m here to stay.” She gave him a bright smile that seemed forced.
Sawyer had never understood why she didn’t just pack her bags and leave right after graduation. He had eventually, and so had Shadow Moran—even Logan for a while. Certainly, Annabelle’s folks hadn’t treated her very well.
She glanced around the diner. “Enough about that,” she said, flushing. “I see a space at a table in the back.”
With a determined step, Annabelle led him to the rear of the restaurant, but the table she’d mentioned was already occupied. A tall dark-haired man wearing jeans and a denim shirt sat there perusing the menu. “Sheriff, we’re so crowded today. Do you have room for one more? This is Logan Hunter’s brother.”
“I don’t mean to intrude,” Sawyer began, feeling uncomfortable. He wasn’t good at small talk these days. Maybe he’d get his food to go, eat in the truck or save it until he got home rather than sit with a stranger. Feel on display.
The sheriff wasn’t wearing a badge or a uniform, which struck him as odd. Maybe he liked to ambush people.
He looked Sawyer over. Sawyer could see him catalog every feature, make a mental note of his hair and eye color and his height as if Sawyer was in a lineup or being booked for a crime. Not that he wasn’t guilty of something.
Then the sheriff turned back to Annabelle and smiled. “Sure, why not?.” He handed Sawyer the menu. “Take a seat. I recommend the beef patty melt today.”
“It’s our special.” Annabelle refilled the sheriff’s mug, then hurried away, the coffee carafe still in hand and her cheeks as rosy as a Western sunset.
“She forgot to actually introduce you,” the sheriff said with a smile. “Annabelle’s a sweetie but sometimes her heart isn’t here.” He stuck out a hand. “Finn Donovan.”
“Sawyer McCord.”
He frowned a little. “You looked familiar and now I know why—but Logan’s brother? Obviously, I see the resemblance, but I don’t recognize the last name. I’m fairly new in town. Enlighten me.”
“I’ve been gone for a long time, but I’m back to help out while I can.”
“Ah,” Finn said. “The honeymooners. And Sam. Logan pressed me into service as a groomsman. Didn’t notice you at the wedding. I missed the reception. Had a call I needed to respond to.”
Sawyer didn’t explain his lateness. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“Chicago PD,” Finn said, then fell silent as if he didn’t want to explain himself, either. There was something more going on behind those keen eyes.
Sawyer waited a beat before saying, “My parents—and Logan’s—died in a car wreck when we were kids.” As always, the memory turned him inside out. “Sam and Muriel, my grandmother, who was a widow when they met, adopted us. They raised Logan and me.”
“But then—” Finn prompted, as if he were interviewing a suspect.
“Sam and I had a falling-out.” He was not about to bring Olivia into the conversation. Sawyer’s long-ago yearning for her was just that, long ago, and although she looked even better to him now, and he admired her for being a good mother to Nick, a strong woman who could take care of herself, even put him in his place, that was none of the sheriff’s concern. Or Sawyer’s, for that matter. “Eventually I changed my name from Hunter back to McCord. My dad’s name and his father’s. The original name of the ranch.”
Finn mulled that over. “What’s the deal now? With you and Sam?”
“A work in progress,” Sawyer said, pretending to read the menu.
“Aren’t we all. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
Sawyer didn’t quite believe him but Finn signaled their waitress over to take their order while Sawyer was still digesting that. The sheriff’s gaze kept drifting, assessing the other customers in the diner as if for threats, and Sawyer guessed he was seated at the last table with his back to the wall for a reason. Of course he’d meant to grill Sawyer. That was his job, off duty or not, he supposed.
“You having the melt?” Finn asked.
The daily special held appeal but Sawyer opted out. “No, I’ll try Annabelle’s veal stew. If it’s her mom’s recipe, it should still be more than good.” The woman had had a mean streak, but she sure could cook.
He wasn’t as certain how he felt about the sheriff. Finn Donovan had an unassuming manner, but Sawyer would have to watch himself. No more impromptu lunches with the local law. Not that he’d done anything wrong.
Not here, at least.
CHAPTER EIGHT
OLIVIA TRIED NOT to eavesdrop. In the living room, Nick was talking to Logan on the phone. Each night for the past three nights, her ex had called to check on him. The first day, Nick had reported after the call that his dad and Blossom had stayed near Denver, the second in Wyoming—or was it the other way around?
She was glad they were enjoying their wedding trip, just as she was happy to be home, not at the Circle H. Olivia had gradually settled back in to her daily routine except for one thing.
Nick, who was still under what her brother Grey called “house arrest,” wasn’t any happier with her now that he was feeling better than he’d been right before he fell from the hayloft. Several times Olivia had tried to talk to him about their possible move from Barren, but Nick had retreated to his room or gone back to work at the dining room table—which he and Olivia never used for eating—on the Lego set her father and Liza had given him.
As she finished their supper dishes at the sink, she heard his voice, sounding so excited at first about the progress he was making, and Olivia had to smile. The elaborate Minecraft display was coming to life with every piece Nick fit into the whole.
Olivia liked to think his dedication to the project helped him to heal, and that his view of their move might soon improve, too. He’d just groused to Logan about the light chore list Olivia had made for him to help pay for the Tiffany vase. But then, a few seconds ago, his tone had changed.
Nick scampered into the kitchen, holding out the phone.
“Daddy wants to talk to you.”
Her heart sinking, Olivia dried her hands on a dish towel. Logan hadn’t asked to speak to her since he and Blossom had set out on their honeymoon for the second time. Olivia wondered if Blossom was okay. “Everything all right, Logan?”
“You tell me.” His tone didn’t reassure her.
She shooed Nick back into the dining room, noting that he ducked out from under her hand when she tried to ruffle his hair. Then she changed her mind, not wanting him to overhear her conversation. “Nick, would you pick up those Lincoln Logs in your bedroom? And put them away? We made quite a mess this afternoon. I’ll count that as one of your chores.” She waited until he was gone. “Where are you?” she asked Logan.
“Lake Tahoe.” He paused. “Blossom wanted to see the area, which is beautiful, and I’d never been here, either. We’re zigzagging a bit, meandering our way to the coast,” he said. “Probably to San Francisco first. What’s this I hear about you moving?”
Olivia sighed. “Nick told you.” Which explained the change she’d heard in his tone. She’d been afraid of this, but maybe she deserved to be put on the spot. Last spring she’d told Logan that Nick gave her a full report after each visit with his father. Now the tables were turned. “I haven’t made a firm decis
ion yet, but you know my house is too small for us. You know I’ve been planning to expand my antiques business.”
“In Barren, yes.”
She told him about Ted Anderson, who hadn’t yet countered her offer. To be fair, she hadn’t called him, either; she was still trying to find money in the budget to pay for the vase Nick had broken. Concerned for Nick, she hadn’t broached the subject of a move before with Logan. Maybe she should have, but she’d also been enjoying their new truce and she’d suspected he wouldn’t take this well. “If I can’t come up with more money,” she finished, “I may have to wait for a different opportunity.”
Logan’s voice hardened. “And that leaves me waiting for the other shoe to drop.” He sounded so cool just when she’d hoped all the unpleasantness between them was over. “When Nicky told me, he didn’t seem happy. Is this what caused his accident in the first place?”
Her spirits plummeted even further. The night he’d fallen, she’d told Logan that he’d run away from her. “I think so, probably, yes.” Olivia had felt guilty ever since. In her zeal to be the best single mom she could be for Nick, to provide not only financial security but emotional stability as well, she’d only made things worse with Logan. And her son had been seriously injured in the process.
“Libby. Do I have to remind you? Our divorce agreement has a clause that prevents you or me—”
“From taking Nick out of the county to live. Yes. I know.” That had been a sticking point about their settlement, but Olivia had finally given in, not planning to relocate any time soon. But that had been three years ago.
“Yet you’ve gone ahead with this anyway.”
Olivia thought of her offer and Ted’s refusal, then of Nick and the broken vase. “Logan, nothing has ‘gone ahead.’ Or changed. And I’m grateful for Nick’s child support. I know I can count on you to make those payments every month, and I know how much you care about him—”
“I don’t think you do.”
“—but if I can earn more, do more, to secure our future, I will. I’ve opened a college savings account for him—”
