by Jenna Jacob
“If you all don’t mind…while she’s making that call, I’m going to hit the ladies’ room. My bladder is fixin’ to bust!”
Without waiting for a reply, Lucy turned and ran toward the back of the store.
“I really hope this works out. I feel horrible invading your and Colton’s privacy.”
“Don’t be silly.” Jade waved dismissively. “You haven’t invaded anything.”
“Still, I don’t want to hinder your sex life. And with what I’ve got to do, lying in bed listening to you two go at it like a couple of monkeys on Animal Planet…I’ll need new toys in a week.”
“We don’t want that now, do we?” Jade giggled.
“No. I need to go easy on B.O.B. since he’s the only thing that’ll be getting near my flower patch for a long time.” Brea sobered. “I’ve never lived alone before. It’s time I give it a try and figure out what I want to do with my life.”
Jade blinked. “You’ve never lived alone?” Brea shook her head. “Wow. I didn’t know that. You should stay here in Haven. Find a job and settle down, close to Colton and me. It’s not a bad thing to have friends around in case you need them. And you know we’ll both be there anytime you need us.”
“I know, and I love you both for it. Thank you.”
Barbara came rushing back excitedly and wearing a huge grin as she handed Jade back her phone.
“Brea, you’re hired,” Barbara announced with a laugh. “Oh, my god, Colton couldn’t stop praising you. Thank you so much for doing this for me. You’ve saved my butt. I’ll pay you a thousand dollars for the month…is that fair?”
“A thousand dollars?” Brea gasped. “Yes. More than fair. Oh, my god. Thank you.
“I don’t mean to be nosy,” Jade began. “But where are you going for a whole month?”
“I belong to a women’s cycling group.” Barbara looked around, then leaned in close and whispered, “We call ourselves the Menstrual Cycles.”
“Oh, my god,” Brea chortled. “That’s priceless.”
“I know,” Barbara giggled. “In the morning, we’re flying to Italy to compete in the Giro d’Italia Femminile. It’s the women’s equivalent to the Tour de France. The men won’t allow us to ride the Tour. I think they’re afraid we’ll beat them and they’ll have to all turn in their man cards.”
“Oh, wow. That sounds exciting,” Jade cooed.
“What? What did I miss?” Lucy asked as she hustled behind the cash register.
“I was just telling the girls about the race. Brea is going to take care of Ozzie and the house.”
“Wonderful!” Lucy cheered.
“Here, let me give you my address.” Barbara quickly scribbled the info on a small grocery sack and handed it to Brea. “Come by anytime this afternoon. I’ll introduce you to Ozzie and show you around the house.”
The three women watched as Barbara sailed out of the store. Once out of sight, Lucy pinned Brea with a fierce stare.
“Barbara is a good friend. She’s been through a lot and is finally getting her life back on track. You mess with her and I’ll hunt you down. You got it?”
Taken aback by the woman’s threat, Brea couldn’t help but admire the fierce protection Lucy extended her friend.
“Trust me. I have no hidden agenda. I don’t want to hurt her in any way. I’m simply helping a fellow woman in need. That’s all. I promise.”
“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.” Lucy glanced behind her and cringed when an old man entered the store. “Good afternoon, Emmett.”
“No. It’s not a good nuthin’,” the seventy-something man snapped curtly. “That damn Bigfoot is back. He was prowling outside my house last night. By the time I’d loaded up my shotgun, the big, ugly sucker ran away.”
Brea sucked in a gasp of fear. Lucy rolled her eyes and gave a barely perceptible shake of her head. “That’s nice, Emmett. Just make sure you don’t mistake Maynard Pierce for Sasquatch and blow his head off.”
“I know what my neighbor looks like, you darn fool woman,” Emmett huffed. “You’ll see. One day I’m gonna be on the evening news.”
As the man stormed away, Lucy shook her head. “Oh, I’m sure you will…for blowing your gall-darned neighbor’s brains out, you crazy ol’ coot.”
Brea flashed a worried glance first at Jade, then Lucy. “There isn’t a real Bigfoot around here is there?”
“Only Emmett. The man’s got the biggest feet I’ve ever seen.” Lucy grinned with a wink.
Sawyer’s pulse finally slowed to a normal rhythm as he turned down the gravel road toward his parents’ ranch. Unfortunately his straining cock wasn’t ready to give up its fight for a good time with Brea. His hungry appendage had stood up the second Sawyer spotted the woman standing on the corner. The way the sunlight had streamed around her, casting the sexy vixen in an ethereal glow, made her look like a beautiful angel. She’d stolen his fucking breath.
Everything had been going smooth as silk…until she’d turned him down.
“Spurned by a ridiculous man ban,” Sawyer spat in disgust. “What the fuck is that all about anyway?”
He would have liked it better if she’d turned him down because she batted for the other team, like Sawyer had first thought. But finding out she’d kicked all men to the curb rankled. Some prick-assed fuck-nut must have hurt her something fierce. He wanted to find out who, hunt the weasel down, and rearrange his face. While the notion would satisfy Sawyer immensely, it wouldn’t heal Brea’s wounds, no matter how badly battered they might be.
Questions about her past…no, worries of what she’d endured rolled through his brain. The need to know everything about her rode him harder than a sumo wrestler on a Shetland pony. But he’d never discover a damn thing as long as Brea continued to shut him down. With a curse, Sawyer slammed his palm against the steering wheel.
Frustration ate at him until he saw the two-story log home in the distance. He’d grown up here, and a much-needed sense of peace began to settle through him.
Parking beside the barn, he watched, Norris, his youngest brother, who, at eighteen, was stronger than most men twice his age, lead one of the horses toward the pasture. The oldest of the brothers, Ned—who was married and lived a half mile up the road with his wife, April—was busy saddling the horses with Noble in preparation for the guests arriving soon.
“About time you dragged your ass out of bed,” Noble playfully taunted.
“Kiss my ass! You haven’t been outside more than ten seconds,” Sawyer scoffed in return. “Mom and Dad still up at the house?”
“Of course. Dad’s in the bathroom, taking his morning constitutional, and Mom’s cleaning up the kitchen. She’s fixed enough food to feed an army.”
“We eat like an army.”
“That’s no lie.” Noble grinned.
As Sawyer headed toward the back patio door, the last of his brothers, Nate and Nash, stepped onto the massive wooden deck. Both were wearing serious expressions.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
Angrily jerking his head up, Nash sent him a wicked glare. “Everything! If you’d kept your nose out of my business and given me time to let Megan cool down, none of this shit would be happening.”
The venomous tone and fury rolling off Nash’s tongue caught Sawyer by surprise. “Whoa. What the hell happened with Megan?”
“There is no more Megan,” Nash spat. Inching into Sawyer’s personal space, he raised a finger and poked him in the chest. “I should have never listened to any of your piss-poor advice.”
“I sent you over to apologize.”
“Oh, I tried. She tore into me like a panther with a toothache. Verbally kicked my nuts down my throat, then gave me an ultimatum.”
Sawyer cringed inwardly. The word ultimatum told him shit had gone south in a bad way. The six brothers shared the same genetic flaw—an overactive bullhead chromosome. When pushed into a corner, they either came out fighting or turned into frosty obstinate, pricks.
“
Which was?” Sawyer arched his brows.
“She told me to shit or get off the pot. Either set a date and marry her or she’d find someone who would. Then she pulled off her engagement ring, threw it at me, and slammed the door in my face. Happy now?” Nash barked.
Guilt, slick and hot, sluiced through Sawyer’s veins. “No. I’m not! If I’d known things were going to end up like this, I never would have told you to—”
“Forget it. What’s done is done.”
Nash turned and stormed away, leaving Sawyer feeling as if he had both feet crammed in his mouth and was nothing but two inches tall. “Son of a bitch!”
“This isn’t your fault, and you know it,” Nate assured. “All Nash had to do was set a goddamn date. Instead, he got his hackles up and…dumb shit needs to learn to kiss ass a whole lot better.”
“If he wants to stay married longer than five minutes, he does.”
Nate chuckled. “I’ll take your word for it. Mom tried to tell him a little bit of space might do them some good. God knows they’ve been breathing each other’s air since grade school. She told him that every couple spats now and then.”
“I suppose he’s not listening to Mom either, right?”
“You know the answer to that. He’s like the rest of us…single-minded, stubborn, and too damn tenacious for our own good.”
Sawyer scrubbed a hand over his bristly chin. “Of course he is! Fuck!”
“And just like the rest of us, he’ll get over it once he’s had time to cool off.” Nash slapped him on the back, then walked away.
Inside the house, Sawyer found his mother, Nola, in the kitchen, washing dishes. He came up behind her and kissed her on the cheek. She smiled and nodded toward the plate covered in foil on the table.
“Good morning, sweetheart. I thought you planned to come in early today.”
“I was, but got held up in town.”
“Ah.” She nodded. “Sit down and eat before your food gets cold. Did you talk to Nash?”
Sawyer couldn’t miss the worry clouding his mom’s moss-colored eyes. He popped a piece of bacon in his mouth and nodded. “It wasn’t a talk really. More like he chewed my ass, and I listened.”
“If my cast-iron skillet hadn’t been full of eggs, I’d have smacked him in the head with it.” Nola sighed heavily. “What on earth was that boy of mine thinking? Megan is his soul mate. Everyone on the planet knows it…sees it. Why can’t he?”
Washing his food down with a gulp of coffee, Sawyer shook his head. “Because you and Dad blessed us, or rather cursed us, whichever the case may be; our heads are far harder than your skillet. It’s a wonder we’re all not brain-dead from butting our heads together for one reason or another.”
“Well, you finally stopped beating yours and wised up. Hopefully Nash will too…soon.”
“I didn’t wise up, Mom. I gave up. Big difference,” Sawyer replied grimly.
Nola wiped her hands and sat down at the table. “Oh, honey. Sara left you no choice. You did the only thing you could and divorced Her Majesty.”
Sawyer grunted in reply. It might have been his only option, but he’d never been able to shake the guilt for failing. Failing to keep his vow to God, his family, and himself.
“Don’t worry, Mom. Nash will pull his head out of his ass one day. If he and Megan are meant to be, they’ll work it all out.”
“I know. I still want to knock some sense into him.” She issued a heavy sigh. “Let me get you the register.”
“Thanks.”
Nola retrieved a thick binder and set it on the table beside Sawyer before returning to her dishes. He sucked in a deep breath and steeled himself, then opened to the first page. He silently read the bios and studied the photos of the handicapped children en route to the family ranch.
Their spread of land was known as Camp Melody, a respite from hospitals and clinics for mostly terminally ill children. The ranch was a vision realized by his father, Newton. It was an escape for children to try and forget about their illnesses while they spent a week experiencing new adventures in the great outdoors.
His dad’s youngest sister, Melody—the only aunt Sawyer never had the chance to meet—had been born with a rare blood and bone disorder. From an early age, Melody had been confined to a wheelchair. His father had spent every minute of free time making sure Melody didn’t waste away in her room, reading books, glued to the television, or watching the rest of the family work and play outside.
Newton would secure his sister on his horse, and they’d ride out to the river. They’d enjoy a picnic in the shade or fish in the sunshine. He taught her to shoot several types of guns, and even built a slide-board that fit between the garden rows. She was able to weed and harvest the vegetables with the rest of the family.
When she passed away at age seventeen from a lung infection, his father had taken it hard. He vowed to his family, and his sister’s spirit, that he would find a way to keep her memory alive. He’d instilled that same moral conviction in all six of his sons. They grew up providing memories and experiences for sick children all over the country.
Sawyer continued studying the pages as sadness gripped his heart. This was always the hardest part for him…reading about the unfair, shortened life expectancy of each innocent child.
Raising his head as his father entered the room, Sawyer sent him a grim nod. Meeting his gaze, Newton gripped his son’s shoulder firmly, acknowledging the torment in Sawyer’s eyes.
“You’re the one with the softest heart. You always have had, probably always will, son.” Newton smiled sympathetically.
“You calling me a wimp?”
Newton chuckled. “No. Never. You’re kind, compassionate, and caring. A father couldn’t ask for more honorable qualities in a child. Don’t let yourself get strangled by the injustice of it all. Find peace in knowing we’re giving these kids something special to take back as they wage war on the diseases that are ravaging their tiny bodies.”
“I do, Dad. I just wish they could all live long, happy lives.”
“Hopefully, some of them will.”
His father’s gentle words smoothed some of the raw and jagged edges on Sawyer’s soul. But the children’s struggles weren’t the only issues weighing heavily on his mind. Brea’s rejection, and Nash’s angry words, had left a hallow void inside him. As his appetite waned, he closed the notebook, pushed away from the table, and took his dishes to the sink.
Tucking the binder beneath his arm, Newton slapped Sawyer on the back. “Let’s do this. Momma, are you ready?”
Nola smiled and nodded as she dried her hands. When the three stepped out on the deck, she reached up and rang the weathered copper bell hanging from the rustic fascia. The alert usually meant it was mealtime, but this call was for his brothers and Melody employees to gather on the deck for their weekly staff meeting.
Sawyer watched as the doors to both the girls’ and boys’ barracks opened wide. Like ants, jean-clad, Stetson-wearing paraprofessionals, nurses, and a multitude of counselors and volunteers hurried across the yard before gathering in a half circle on the deck. Their faces glowed with excitement. Sawyer’s spirits lifted, well, until he glanced Nash’s way. The man still wore an angry scowl on his face.
While his mother handed out activity agendas, his father addressed specific needs of their scheduled guests. Sawyer darted another glance Nash’s way. His brother’s brooding, angry sadness had Sawyer releasing a guilt-ridden sigh. When the meeting was over, he hung back and gripped Nash’s shoulder before the man could walk away.
“I’m sorry I butted in last night. I honestly wasn’t trying to stir up trouble between—”
“No. I’m the one who should apologize,” Nash interrupted. “I ripped into you because I’m unable to inflict the anger I feel onto myself. I’m the dumb fuck who dug my feet in and refused to budge. I’m not pissed at you or the world, just myself.”
The remorse in Nash’s voice sliced Sawyer like razor blades. Their family bond was st
rong. When any one of them was hurting, the pain rippled out and affected them all. Nash’s heartbreak was no exception.
“I’m here if you need me. We all are.” Sawyer slapped him on the back with a grim nod.
“Thanks.”
The sound of crunching gravel and the hum of diesel engines came from the driveway, announcing the arrival of the guests. The staff gathered on the poured concrete walkway that connected the barracks, mess hall, showers, and shelter houses, waving and cheering excitedly. Each new group of campers was welcomed with an overabundance of enthusiasm. Sawyer, and even Nash, couldn’t help but grin and holler from the deck.
“Come on, let’s give these angels something wonderful to remember,” Sawyer urged.
As he made his way to the first bus, images of another angel filled his head. But he shoved his memories of Brea aside and scanned the little faces for a blond, blue-eyed pixie. Sawyer had a special surprise planned for the little girl. He smiled as they lifted six-year-old Tina Ellis off the bus. The timid expression on her face gave way to a look of awe, and a dreamlike sparkle danced in her eyes when she spied the horses. Sawyer moved in close as a counselor handed the girl her metal-cuffed crutches, and with lumbering steps, Tina headed straight toward the fence of the pasture.
“Horses,” she whispered on a breathless sigh.
Goose bumps peppered Sawyer’s arms, and tears stung the backs of his eyes, while his heart nearly burst with joy. Though he’d never met aunt Melody, he knew by the tone of Tina’s voice that his father’s sister was looking down on this family with nothing but pride.
After making his way over to Tina, Sawyer dropped to one knee and smiled. “You’re Tina, and you love horses, right?”
The little girl blinked up at him as if he’d read her mind, and nodded ever so slowly.
“I’m Sawyer. Would you like to ride one of them?”
Her mouth dropped open in unadulterated shock. “Can I?”
“You bet. I’m afraid our first trip will have to be a short one. We still need to get you settled into your barracks, but after that long bus ride, I thought you might like to breathe in some good ol’ fresh Texas air.”
