by Leigh Riker
When at last he raised his head, he was almost smiling, his eyes still sad.
“You really know how to send a guy off,” he said, then reached into his back pocket to pull out a folded sheet of paper. His gaze fell just past her. “Here’s my itinerary. I’ve given one to Logan, too, so you’ll all know where I am this time. Or at least which flights I’ll be on.” He pressed a finger to her lips. “Olivia, don’t say it.”
Goodbye.
Trying not to cry, she stepped back. “Let me know. Text or call...”
“I will.” Sawyer straightened from the stall door. Inside, Sundance shuffled around, perhaps hoping for a midnight snack. Finally, the horse gave up and Olivia heard the gelding slurp water from his bucket.
Without a word, Sawyer took her hand and drew her with him down the length of the barn aisle to the end stall where Cyclone lived. She felt as if they were a married couple, touching base before a business trip. “I hope you’ll keep working with him. Or he’ll slip back into his bad habits.”
“I’ll do my best.” She added, “Just like you.”
He turned her toward the stall, and stood at her back, almost touching but not quite. If they had, she wouldn’t have been able to let him go. “I want you to make that deal with Ted Anderson. Build your business—for you and Nick.” He hesitated, then his voice was almost a whisper. “And I want you to have one more thing. I’ve talked to Sam. I asked—and he agreed. He’ll board him for you right here. I’ll write a check before I leave.” He paused, obviously sensing her confusion. “Let me make up for Jasmine, okay—as much as it’s possible—for that mistake at least.”
“It wasn’t a mistake. I told you, you were right then.”
“I’m right now,” he said, then pointed upward past her shoulder.
Olivia lifted her gaze to read the hand-lettered sign written on cardboard tacked above the stall. And felt her heart crack wide open.
The sign said: Blue.
* * *
IT SEEMED THAT Olivia now owned a beautiful black colt. She’d been unable to refuse the generous gift. Sawyer had even ordered a new brass nameplate for the stall, but of course that hadn’t come yet and she already loved the change of name.
In the ranch yard, they’d said their final goodbyes before Olivia had driven home with Nick, away from the Circle H, fighting her own tears the whole way. She could still feel the warmth of Sawyer’s last kiss. Fortunately, Nick hadn’t seen; and by the time they reached their house on Liberty Street, he’d been asleep in the back seat.
Olivia sat in her darkened living room, replaying the night and wishing there was some other outcome for her with Sawyer. At least, in his absence, she would make time to train Blue—as if that might bring her closer to Sawyer—and she’d try to text or phone or email, hoping her messages might reach him. But his gift held more importance than an apology for Jasmine.
It was an expression of love.
And in a different way, Blue would help to heal Olivia. Her memories of the spring flood that had nearly killed Nick and ended her marriage to Logan no longer held the same power to hurt or to frighten. Compared to Kedar, the isolated ranch didn’t seem all that remote now. Next door, her brother, Grey, would set up house with Shadow, a family at last with their daughter, Ava. Nick’s best friend would be nearby. At the Circle H, he and Olivia had Logan, Blossom and Sam, if not Sawyer now. Nick could ride Hero and Olivia would work with Blue...
The thought made her smile. Life went on, and as a girl she’d ridden horses every day. Had she become, with Nick, like her own mother after her divorce? Overly protective, keeping her son from his father and the ranch Nick loved? She’d thought she was making progress, starting last spring, but had she really?
Not, of course, that she could change her whole life or stop Sawyer from leaving. He shouldn’t give up his clinic work, and she wouldn’t think of taking Nick, or herself, to such a faraway country. Following Sawyer to Kedar might give her that something she’d thought about just for herself, but what about her son’s schooling? Leaving the ranch, their hometown, family and friends behind? What if things with Sawyer didn’t work out? Or he couldn’t cope and fell apart? Could she trust him with her son? Rely on him herself? She might risk everything only to lose it all again.
But this wasn’t about her. Or even Nick.
It was about a broken man whose tears had shattered her heart, who would face what he’d done in Kedar. Alone.
And she remembered him saying: Sometimes you have to take a chance.
CHAPTER TWENTY
IN THE RANCH YARD, just as a rosy dawn broke in the big sky to the east, Sawyer propped both hands on his hips. “Olivia,” he said again, “you are not going with me.”
“Too late.” With a definite sense of purpose, she popped the trunk on her SUV, then pulled out a roll-on suitcase and set it on the ground.
He’d already loaded his gear into Logan’s truck. Then he’d glanced up to see Olivia barreling up the drive, a plume of dust billowing behind her. Nick had tumbled out of the car, saying one of his quick hellos to Sawyer before he ran into the house calling for his dad. If they’d come five minutes later, if Logan hadn’t forgotten his keys and walked back to the house to get them, Sawyer would have been gone.
Still stunned by Olivia’s sudden appearance, he couldn’t seem to find a good argument for her to stay behind. “What about Nick?”
“Logan and Blossom will watch him while I’m gone. Nick is thrilled.”
He understood that. He was more surprised that Olivia would leave her child. “You don’t have tickets.”
“I do now.” She patted her carry-on bag. “Booked online. At four a.m.,” she admitted, looking bleary-eyed. Sawyer remembered giving her his itinerary. “Same flight as yours. We’re not sitting together, but—”
“You’re not going. It isn’t safe.” His mouth set. Yesterday he’d wanted this, but things had changed. “You saw Charlie’s text.”
She gestured toward Logan’s truck. “It’s not safe for you, either.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s different. I’ll be there to treat patients, but I won’t have you exposed to disease, never mind the rigors of just getting to the village. I have no idea what conditions are like there now. I’ll be playing it by ear. Considering the possibility of cholera, there may not even be fresh water available. You haven’t had any of the necessary shots.”
“Yes, I have. I googled that, too. My mother wanted to see Thailand last summer and I went with her, so I’ve had most of what I need. You’re a doctor. You can give me whatever else may seem necessary, but I think I have that covered.”
“Are you kidding me?” Sawyer lost his temper. Or was this his fear for her talking? “You’re not getting it. You’d need those shots weeks before a trip. Without them, the government may not let you in the country.”
“Then you’ll find a way to talk them into it.”
He glanced at the long driveway. And rubbed his neck again. Who are you?
“As far as a visa goes,” she said, “I’ll be able to get that on the plane. The US has an agreement with Kedar—”
“To facilitate all the aid workers who go back and forth.”
Well, she’d done her homework. But Sawyer tried again. “You’re probably thinking ‘what could go wrong?’ But standing here, still safe and healthy on the Circle H, is literally a world away from where I’m going. You’d be risking your life, Olivia. I won’t let you do that. There may still not be navigable roads between the capital and the village. This isn’t a school field trip we’re talking about.”
“Don’t patronize me!” Her temper had snapped, too. Her eyes blazed though she kept her voice low. “This is not your decision. It’s mine. I was awake all night making up my mind—and I won’t change it. I’m going with you.”
The one word seemed to burst out of him. “Why?”
Their gazes locked. From the house, Logan’s laughter floated on the early morning air along with Nick’s giggles. Sawyer smelled bacon frying, fresh coffee. Normal, everyday things. And his mind filled with the memory of last night, of their kisses, soul deep and heartfelt and life changing for him—and, it seemed, for Olivia—with the memory of his confession about Khalil, his tears while she held Sawyer in her arms. This morning, because of all that, they were again different people.
“I can’t—I won’t—let you go by yourself,” she said.
His shoulders sagged. In the next instant, he was picking up her roll-on case to stow in Logan’s truck. His brother came out of the house and called, “Ready?”
Sawyer lifted his free hand then started for the truck. He wanted to deny her but he couldn’t. More cowardice on his part?
Sawyer dreaded what he’d find in Kedar. What if Olivia hated it there?
But he’d failed to change her mind. And he was glad not to be going alone.
* * *
“ARE WE THERE YET?”
Olivia was teasing, trying to draw Sawyer from the mostly somber mood he’d been in since they took off from Kansas City. The twenty-six-plus hours to reach Kedar had seemed both exciting to her and interminable.
Beside her, Sawyer reached for her hand. “Almost there.” Their first flight to Chicago had left on time, and the one after that, but their connecting flight in Abu Dhabi had taken off late. Because of that, they’d just been treated to an impressive sunset—the following day. Now they were in the highest of the Himalayas. Fortunately, the plane wasn’t full and they had managed to change their seats to be together. In spite of her excitement, Olivia had slept off and on with her head on Sawyer’s shoulder.
“Look,” she said, leaning back so he could see out the window. “These mountains are so beautiful! I’ve never seen any this high.”
Sawyer obviously shared her enthusiasm. “I’ve loved the area from the first time I laid eyes on it. Awesome. And treacherous,” he pointed out.
“There’s so much snow on the peaks. It’s only August!”
“Always. They’re snow-covered year round but fall does come early here.”
Olivia spoke with her face pressed to the glass, trying to see below. “How do we get to the village when we land?”
In Abu Dhabi, Sawyer had done some calling around. “If I’d told you that part, I might have talked you out of coming with me.”
“No, you wouldn’t. I want to understand your life away from the Circle H.” If they were going to have any chance at all of finding some compromise.
“They tell me the road to Sitara is still blocked in places—as I expected.” He paused. “So I’ve chartered a helicopter.”
She felt her face turn pale. “I’ve never been up in one.”
Sawyer lifted her hand to kiss her knuckles. “Then you’re about to have another adventure.”
Olivia might have preferred slightly less adventure than that, but when they skimmed over the snow-capped peaks in the helicopter, then low through the deep passes where greenery dotted the mountainsides and hardy sheep could be seen frolicking on the hills, Olivia nearly forgot her fears.
It was almost midnight local time when they finally reached the clinic. And by then, she was dead on her feet. Sawyer left her in his hut to rest. He gave Olivia his bed—little more than a cot, but covered by a silky-soft sheepskin for a blanket—and insisted he could use his sleeping bag on the floor. Then he went in search of Charlie. Olivia didn’t ask to go with him.
Almost before her head hit what passed for a pillow, she had fallen fast asleep. Tomorrow would be soon enough for her to explore the village.
* * *
“CHARLIE.” THE NEXT MORNING, Sawyer followed his partner through the clinic’s small anteroom past several waiting patients and on into one of their two exam rooms. He’d knocked at Charlie’s door last night but received no answer, and Sawyer had quickly stepped back from the small hut, not wanting to wake everyone inside. Now, his mind fuzzy, he was fighting serious jet lag. And Charlie wasn’t talking to him. “Before you leave, you need to tell me what’s going on here so I can take over. I didn’t see our appointment book—and where are the charts for those people sitting outside?”
Charlie stopped at the exam table, then spun around to face Sawyer. The sight was shocking. His face looked haggard, gray with fatigue, his brown eyes pale and haunted. Even his almost-black hair appeared washed-out and thinner. Grief had aged him. So had the load of work in Sawyer’s absence. Charlie was about to let him have it.
“Why?” he asked. “So you can play doctor for a couple of days—then take off again? Disappear just when things get rough? I’ve been covering for you all summer, McCord. I can keep on doing that, thank you very much, without your help.”
“You sent me the text. I’ve answered it.”
“Something I never expected,” Charlie said, his mouth set in a hard line.
“I assumed you wanted me here.”
“I did—until I saw you. That just made me mad.” Charlie dragged a hand over the stubble on his face. “You know, at first I understood. I figured you’d go home, look around that ranch, realize how much better you could serve people here in Sitara, and come back after your brother’s wedding. Every day, then every week—for months I thought that.” He took a breath. “Until I finally knew you weren’t coming back.”
“I probably deserve that, Charlie. I’m sorry. I couldn’t—”
“What? Leave that woman you brought with you? Who knew,” he said bitterly, “that Sawyer McCord, the guy who turned his back on his family years ago, who never showed any interest whatsoever in a woman over here, whose only emotional contact was with my family, my kids—would finally fall for someone after all?”
Sawyer blinked. “How do you know that?”
“The village is buzzing.” Sawyer should have expected that. “And, really,” Charlie went on, “it’s obvious. This goes way back, doesn’t it, my friend?”
Charlie stalked over to a cabinet, pulled out some supplies, then crammed them into his medical bag. Sawyer might have smiled. That bag, like Doc’s, had been with Charlie ever since they’d graduated from med school, and it bore all the signs of his experience since then too—scrapes, gouges, faded black leather—but Sawyer couldn’t smile.
Charlie snorted. “Apparently you’ve brought a ‘golden goddess’ with you. That’s what people are calling her. The kids are hoping for a first sighting.” He paused. “It’s Olivia, isn’t it?”
“You have a good memory.” In the painful days after Sawyer had left the Circle H, he and Charlie had had more than a few late-night discussions. Olivia’s marriage to Logan had been a fresh wound then, and Sawyer hadn’t been able to hide his sorrow.
“She’s always been the one.” Charlie added, “But to bring her here—”
“She didn’t give me any choice.”
Charlie shoved a stack of charts at him. “Here’s what you need to know.” His back to Sawyer, he closed his bag, hefted it in one hand, then brushed past Sawyer to the doorway. With a nod at the charts, he rattled off the names of several patients, most of whom Sawyer didn’t recognize, which told him how long he’d been away.
“Don’t believe Nara when she tells you she took all the antibiotics I prescribed two weeks ago. When pressed, she’ll try to blame that still-festering leg wound on the malevolence of some long-dead relative who gave her the evil eye.” He hesitated before stepping out into the hall.
“Charlie,” Sawyer said. “Where are you going?”
“Piper and I will be in the next village all day. I’m leaving now. In a while, she’ll meet me there.”
“Cholera?”
Charlie shook his head. “I don’t
believe it is now. Still waiting for the cultures to come back from the lab in the capital. Seems more like some particularly nasty virus to me, one that will hopefully run its course.” Charlie’s gaze slid past his. “So far, it hasn’t killed anyone.”
And, flinching, Sawyer took his chance. He’d half expected his partner’s cold shoulder, but about something entirely different. “When will you be back? When can we talk about...” Khalil.
All Charlie said was “Good luck. Don’t work too hard.”
Trying to forget his sarcasm, Sawyer spent the morning treating patients.
The gash on Nara’s leg was quickly dealt with. Sawyer changed her antibiotic. Thankful that the supplies he’d sent had gotten here along with a fresh delivery of drugs to the clinic, he gave her a shot, a bolus to start, then ordered her to come back tomorrow for another injection. Obviously, the other antibiotic Charlie had prescribed had had little effect on the bacteria, and the leg looked only slightly better than Fred Miller’s arm had weeks ago. He hoped to see improvement when Nara came to the clinic again.
By nine o’clock, he was whistling to himself between patients. It felt good—more than good—to be back.
Sawyer patted a small boy’s shoulder and gave him an encouraging smile. “That stuffy nose will be gone soon, Amir.” He spoke in the local dialect, the words coming back to him as if he’d never been away. “Just remember. This is how to cough into the crook of your arm.” He demonstrated, then turned to the boy’s mother, who’d been staring at him from liquid dark eyes as if he were an alien from another galaxy. “I’d keep him home from school for a few days. Will that work for you, Fatima?”
She mumbled something about her work with the other women who had formed a weaving group to make rugs. Sawyer wasn’t certain she’d understood. “I will try,” she said with a shy, upward flick of her lashes.
“See you next time, then.”
Her look turned dubious, but Sawyer tried to ignore it. He couldn’t blame the local people, or Charlie, for their mistrust. He would have to prove himself, gain their confidence, all over again. If he stayed, he would have to put Olivia on a plane home, knowing that goodbye might be a final one. He thought of her sleeping against his shoulder during their flight, her blond hair on his chest, wondered what she’d been doing this morning other than catching up on her rest.
