by Leigh Riker
“Thank God,” he murmured again.
“Yes,” Piper said with a weak smile. “And thank you, Sawyer.”
He sat—or rather, sank down—next to her on a stool by the table. His legs wouldn’t hold him any longer. “You know, there was a time when I thought of myself as, well—yes, kind of a god who could do no wrong.”
“You and Charlie both,” Piper said.
“I prided myself on rarely losing a patient—and then, only the most hopeless of cases with no real chance of recovery.” He shook his head. “I’ll never think of myself like that again. I wish I could have prevented that bleeding somehow...” Yet it could have been worse. Much worse.
“I’ve helped Charlie with a few delivery complications. There was nothing else to be done.” Piper blinked back tears. “Just as there was nothing you could have done for Khalil,” she said, reaching out a hand. “As a doctor, Charlie especially must understand that. It’s your turn to believe it, too.”
His throat closed. He shook his head again.
But that brief moment of forgiveness—at least from Piper—was over as soon as she said the words. In the next breath, she actually laughed a little. “Now go and bring me my baby. I haven’t met him yet.”
* * *
IN HIS HOUSE, Charlie bent over the cradle some local women had made for the new baby. He peered in at his son, then glanced up at Sawyer. “Quite an experience, isn’t it? Never gets old,” he said.
“No. It doesn’t,” Sawyer agreed. The miracle of life. He had seen it often, beginning as a boy when he’d watched his first calf being born or a foal slipping so sleekly into the world. Yet nothing beat this little human, a bare handful of a being with red hair like his mother’s and a pair of newborn, ocean-blue eyes that would surely darken in the coming months. And a whole lifetime of experiences ahead of him. He’d weighed in under five pounds. In the States, he’d likely be in an incubator. “His Apgar scores were off the charts—and he’s breathing well on his own.”
“Must be the mountain air here in Kedar.” But Charlie’s voice sounded choked and his faint smile missed the mark. “Piper’s sleeping now,” he said. “You’re sure she didn’t need a transfusion?”
“I’m sure.” A woman’s blood supply increased by roughly fifty percent during pregnancy. She could tolerate the loss. “Her count’s a bit low, but—”
“She’ll make that up in the next few days.”
“Then we’re in agreement, Dr. Banfield.”
“We are.” Clearing his throat, Charlie tucked a blanket around his son, then walked with Sawyer to the door of his hut. “I can’t thank you—and Olivia—enough.”
“No need,” Sawyer said, but Charlie didn’t say goodbye or shut the door behind him. They stepped into the yard, and he led Sawyer to the patch of dirt where Piper insisted upon trying to grow flowers. A few fledgling marigolds had thrust through the earth, giving birth themselves, in a way. He motioned for Sawyer to sit on a log that had been fashioned into a rough bench.
“Time for that talk, McCord,” he said. “I’ll go first. This morning—yesterday, I mean—I acted like a jerk. I sent you that text, all but asking you to come back, then treated you very badly.”
“You have every right.”
“No. I don’t. You know how I grew up—in the rarest of circumstances, in Boston on Beacon Hill. I never wanted for anything. Except,” he added, “a friend who saw me for myself, not for where I came from, who my family was or how much money they had. You were the first person who ever just called me Charlie, did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t.” Sawyer slanted him a look. “You just seemed like a Charlie to me.”
“Which I am. Now. Charles Worthington Banfield the Fourth is no more. Instead, I’m a guy just doing his job here in Kedar. Stitching up cuts, knocking down fevers, delivering babies.” He hesitated. “I’m the luckiest man on earth tonight.” He studied the sky. “They don’t always survive here, as we both know. The mothers, either. But my new son has, and I have you to thank for that.”
“But Charlie...about...Khalil.”
He blinked. “Ah, yes. What a great kid he was, huh?” Another blink. “He worshipped you, Sawyer. One time he was so mad at me for telling him he couldn’t do something—I’ve forgotten what—that he actually packed a bag, then announced he was going to live with you, that you’d be his father from then on.”
Sawyer put his head in his hands. “I’d give everything—my own life—to have saved him.”
“You couldn’t,” Charlie said. “I know that now. I’ve known it for a long while.”
“I loved him, too. And you,” Sawyer said. “I should have stayed here.”
“I understand why you didn’t. I’m sorry for earlier when I should have said how glad I am to have you back, see you, talk again the way we used to do...instead, I took off for the next village. Which makes me as guilty as you think you are.” He paused. “Oh, by the way, the lab results are in. It wasn’t cholera, thank heaven. And the cases we saw today seem on the mend without many others coming in. I think the outbreak will be under control in the next week or so.” He said, “I’ll be back here full-time then.”
Sawyer heard the unspoken question, but he was still grappling with the notion that no one seemed to blame him for Khalil’s death—except Sawyer himself. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Charlie. I need some more time.”
“Because of Olivia, too,” Charlie said, sounding like some wise sage.
“She was a great help with Piper. For a while there, I even hoped she might be willing to...stay.”
“And if she isn’t?”
Unable to speak, Sawyer shrugged, then tried to change the subject. “That’s for later. I promise. I’ll let you know about the clinic. In the meantime, what are you and Piper planning to call the baby?”
Charlie fought a smile that kicked up the corners of his mouth, then gave in to his grin. “We haven’t decided. We’re leaning, though—how does this sound?—toward Benjamin Sawyer.”
And he punched Sawyer in the shoulder.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Two weeks later
OLIVIA OPENED HER shop for the day. While basking in the morning sun that streamed through the front windows, she tidied several displays of small objets d’art, dusted the George III side table, then went into her office to brew a cup of coffee. But these little elements of her daily routine didn’t satisfy her.
For one thing, business had been slow since her return from Kedar. At the moment, people seemed to like midcentury modern rather than the more traditional pieces Olivia tended to carry, and which she most certainly preferred. For another thing, she missed Kedar. The trip with Sawyer had changed her worldview. He’d accompanied her as far as Kedar’s capital so Olivia didn’t have to travel there alone, but Sawyer had stayed behind to spend more time at the clinic, and for now things between them seemed to be on hold.
Although she was glad to be home with Nick, she couldn’t forget the faces of the children there, the sound of their laughter and the easy camaraderie she’d developed with the village women.
She was sipping her coffee and studying the latest version of the weaving collective’s new website, which was under construction with Olivia as an advisor, when the bell jangled over the main door. A customer? She hoped so.
Instead, Ted Anderson walked in. For weeks, Olivia had been far removed from any thought—or hope—of expanding her business. By now, she had pretty much abandoned any notion of being able to buy his store.
Olivia rushed to greet him. “Ted, how nice to see you again.”
He returned her hug. “I came by before, but there was a Closed sign on your door. Were you ill?”
“I’ve been away.” She noticed his son wasn’t with him. “How have you been? Planning that move to Florida?”
“No,” he said, his mouth firm. “I wanted you to know. I’ve told Craig I’ll stay right here. For as long as I’m able,” he added, putting an end to Olivia’s dream of running two stores. “Why would I move south when my family is nearby? And I’d like to spend time with my grandchildren.”
“I think that will make you happier,” she agreed.
He sent her a rueful smile. “So. How can we do business?”
Confused, Olivia shook her head. Did he still want to sell his store? “I’ve tried, Ted, but there’s simply no way I can come up with the money.”
Ted prowled her shop, picking up a crystal paperweight before stopping to admire a handsome mounted elk head on the wall. “While you were gone, my son and I had a serious discussion. I hated the thought of leaving my business, going away...and I finally told him so. He’s not happy, but I think he does understand my decision.” Ted tested the linen fabric on a tablecloth trimmed in Brussels lace. “Perhaps you and I can come to some agreement, too.”
Her mouth watered. “Ted, I can’t afford—”
“The higher figure we talked about. Yes, I understand. And I couldn’t bear to give up my shop. So. What would you think about becoming partners?”
“Partners?”
“I need some help,” he admitted. “Craig is right about that. But if you’d come in with me—half of what I was asking, for an equal share—I can manage. You’d still be able to expand your reach from Barren, and I’d still have...a job.”
“Part-time.” Olivia started to smile. “Yes, I think that would work.”
Her spirits soared. Not that she had the money—yet. Olivia didn’t want to approach Barney again and she’d already told Sawyer no about a loan but...
There might be a solution after all. That would mean first eating some crow, and she was reaching for the phone on the front counter to call Wilson Cattle when the door opened again and Liza herself breezed in, wearing a new fall outfit and a sassy fedora.
“Good morning!” Then she stopped, seeing Ted. “Oh. Sorry, I don’t mean to intrude. May I wait in your office, Olivia, while you tend to business?”
“Actually, the business involves you.” Olivia introduced her to Ted. “We’d very much like to form a partnership—the amount of my share would be much less than before...” She drew a deep breath. “Are you still willing to give me a loan?”
“Did you really need to ask?” Liza’s eyes lit up. She grinned then lowered her gaze to dig in her purse. “I have my checkbook right here.”
Olivia and Ted exchanged glances before he moved away to give her and Liza some privacy.
Liza’s standing offer was more important than a simple exchange of funds, though. Olivia should have seen that before. It had been Liza’s way of trying to bond with Olivia, who had rejected her offer not merely of cash but of friendship. No, far more than that, it had been Liza’s effort to become part of the family. Olivia and Grey had made that harder for her than it should have been, but after Olivia’s trip to Kedar, the world looked bigger, broader, more inclusive. She had been unfair to Liza, just as she’d once blamed Logan for the spring flood that had nearly taken Nick from her. And she’d blamed Sawyer about Jasmine. It was time to make amends.
Olivia looked at the checkbook. “Keep the money until our agreement is drafted.” She kissed her stepmother’s cheek. “Thank you, Liza.” Then she paused. Why had Liza stopped by in the first place? “Were you looking for something special today? I just got a shipment of beautiful Paul Revere–quality silver. There’s a lovely serving set that might be right for your Dallas condo.”
Liza’s smile broadened. “That’s one reason why I came in, to tell you we’re not going back. I’ve convinced Everett we should sell the condo and stay at Wilson Cattle. There’s plenty of room for us. I couldn’t bear to leave that sweet little girl—my granddaughter—and frankly, your father’s enthusiasm for Dallas may have been mainly to please me. Yesterday, I watched him ride out to look at fences or something, and I knew. This is where he really belongs.” She added, “I hope I do, too.”
Olivia couldn’t catch her breath. This was a surprise. She would need to deal with her father. Strange, but the notion didn’t repel or even scare her, as it once had. Years ago, she’d sided with her mother, but that pressure to choose where her loyalty lay was no longer there. Her mother lived in a different state with her new husband. And Olivia had been unfair to Everett as well as Liza. If she truly wanted to be part of the family herself, to belong and not remain invisible, she had to bend a little. Maybe more than a little.
Liza was grinning again. “The other reason I’m here—I was on my way to the hospital when I passed your shop and had to stop in. Great news. Logan and Blossom’s baby was born a few hours ago!”
Olivia remembered the night in Kedar when she’d helped Sawyer with Piper and Charlie’s newborn son. “That’s wonderful. Is everyone okay?”
Liza’s smile slipped. For a moment, she seemed wistful. “Blossom looks like a Madonna, Logan said on the phone.”
Olivia caught her hand. “But Liza, you seem...troubled.”
“Oh, silly me. I’m slightly envious of Blossom, I suppose. I love Ava and Nick, I love babies, but I’ve always wanted...a child of my own.”
Olivia expected to feel less than enthusiastic, particularly with what would be thirty years between a new sibling and her and Grey, but the idea actually made her smile. “What does my father think?”
“I haven’t asked him.”
Olivia hugged her. This was her chance to do something for Liza. “Then you should,” she said, offering her support. “I don’t know what he’ll say, but if that’s what you want, tell him.”
For a moment, Liza didn’t speak. Then, she straightened and said goodbye to Ted, who came to shake her hand. “Congratulations, you two. I do love such a positive start to the day. I’m off now to see Nick’s baby sister.”
A girl? Blossom had insisted for months that she was having a boy. With a new lightness of heart, Olivia watched Liza go, speeding away down Main Street toward Farrier General Hospital. A fine morning, for sure. A new baby, a sibling for Nick. And for Olivia, a partnership with Ted. She and Nick could move after all. Olivia had everything she’d wanted.
Except Sawyer.
* * *
SAWYER STOOD AT the nursery window, staring through the glass at his brother’s new baby and fighting jet lag again. He’d flown in from Kedar last night to see Olivia—to settle things between them—and just in time for another birth. In the way of such events, everyone in the house at the Circle H had been wakened before dawn as soon as Blossom had gone into labor. Logan had all but begged Sawyer to go with them to the hospital, and he was feeling groggier now than he had when Charlie’s son arrived. Beside him, Logan had his hands shoved in his pockets.
“Talk about miracles.” Logan laid a hand on the glass. “Isn’t she perfect?”
“No question about it,” Sawyer said, grinning, too. “Did I say congratulations?”
“Only about a hundred times.” Logan looked at him, then into the nursery again. “You think the baby’s really okay? I mean, she’s beautiful, has all her fingers and toes, those gorgeous blue eyes, but...”
“She’s fine. Stop worrying.” Benjamin Sawyer Banfield was also doing well. Sawyer had just gotten a text update from Charlie. “This must be Baby Month.”
Logan shifted his gaze to Sawyer again. “You already miss it there, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but I missed the Circle H when I was gone. Olivia doesn’t know, but her being with me there helped a lot. Turns out, I’m the only one who really blames me for Khalil’s death.”
“And you brought a new life into the world over there.”
Sawyer rubbed his neck. “Nothing could ever make up for Khalil, but I feel better now about Piper and Charlie. Glad I could
do something for them, at least.”
“A big something,” Logan insisted. “And your timing here was perfect.”
Sawyer’s face heated. “I didn’t plan that. I flew back to see Olivia, but I’m glad I didn’t miss your baby’s birth—the way I missed your wedding.”
Logan shook his head. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You were here last night. That’s what matters. Now the question is—what are you going to do? About Olivia, too.”
Sawyer contemplated the tile floor. “Olivia liked Kedar but that doesn’t mean she’d consider living there.” She’d said before the trip she wouldn’t. “Then there’s the fact that you wouldn’t like her taking Nick so far away.”
“Sawyer. No, I wouldn’t like that, but if that would make you happy, Olivia, too, we’ll work it out.” He paused. “You and I are doing all right, aren’t we?”
Sawyer touched Logan’s shoulder. “Yeah, we are. That’s another thing—the Circle H. I know Sam wants me there...”
“So do I.” Logan gave him a one-armed hug. “So do I, Tom.”
When Sawyer saw Doc Baxter step out of the nearby elevator, he welcomed the interruption. Things had been getting...too touchy-feely. Doc had delivered Logan’s baby and was likely here to check on her and Blossom. Another round of hearty congratulations followed, but before Doc headed for the maternity rooms after Logan, Sawyer stopped him.
“Hey, Doc. Got a minute?”
“For you, Sawyer? Always.”
The older man looked well rested. He had a new glow and a lighter step.
“I know what you were up to,” Sawyer said. “Leaving town with Ida, dropping your office keys in my hand, expecting me to cover your practice while you were gone...testing me.”
Doc’s gaze fell. “Would I do that?”
“You would. And you must have known how I’d react.”
Doc nodded. “I’ve had a few calls since I got home. Mr. Miller is grateful to you. He was doing a second cutting of hay when I talked to him. No problems with his arm. My other patients say you did a fine job, Sawyer. I thank you for that.”
