by Caroline Lee
“So, um…” Sadie shoved her hands back into her pockets as she straightened. “I actually have something for you, Violet. I was hoping to run into you both, but I wanted to ask your dad first.”
When she turned those milk-chocolate eyes on him, almost pleadingly, Shawn would’ve agreed to anything. “Sure.”
“So, I know that you said Violet’s birthday is coming up, and I know you said she likes to read.” She was talking over the six-year-old’s head, but they both heard the little girl suck in a happy breath. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I could loan her something. As a sort of gift, but sort of loan?”
From the way she was biting that plump lower lip of hers, Shawn could tell she was remembering his reaction last time…and respecting it. He appreciated she’d asked him first, so he smiled, and shrugged. “Wanna check it out, Sprout?”
“Yes! Yesyesyesyes yes!” Violet bounced in place a few times, clapping. “One week ‘til my birthday! Yay!”
Sadie laughed, then jerked her head towards her truck. “Okay, come on.”
As the two ladies scampered ahead, Shawn heard her ask his daughter. “So, ‘Sprout’, huh?”
“Yep!” Violet answered. “It’s ‘cause I’m named after a flower, and Daddy thought ‘Bud’ was a silly nickname for a girl.”
Sadie chuckled the same time Shawn did and met his eyes right before she pulled the door open. “I think ‘Sprout’ is really sweet.”
He told himself her approval of his parenting shouldn’t matter as much as it did, but he was just fooling himself.
“Soooo….” Sadie stretched across the seat to drag a heavy box towards her, and Shawn stared hard at the truck’s silver paint job to avoid looking at the way her backside wiggled in those jeans. “I told you both that I was a big reader, right? Well since my dad sold the house to move into an assisted care facility over in Spokane, I transferred all my old books—most of my childhood stuff—to my apartment.” She rustled around in the box, which Shawn now realized was full of books, and pulled out two with a faded yellow binding.
Violet sucked in a breath as Shawn tried to make out the titles, but Sadie continued. “These are first-edition Nancy Drew books. They used to belong to my mother, and I read them for the first time when I was your age.” She was looking at Violet, but then glanced up to meet Shawn’s eyes. “I thought Violet might like reading them too.”
“Oh, can I, Daddy? Please? Please, please?”
It was hard to resist both sets of beautiful, pleading eyes, but Shawn wasn’t so sure about the idea. “I don’t know. I mean, these were your mom’s, Sadie.” He remembered her telling him that her mom had passed away years ago. “Are you sure about lending them to a six-year-old?”
“I’m almost seven!”
Both adults smiled at the indignant reminder, and Sadie shrugged. “She’s right. Seven years old is pretty responsible, and I know Violet borrows books from the library all the time.” She took a deep breath. “I thought I could leave the box at my shop, and Violet could borrow them one at a time. That way, if one of them gets ruined or something…”
She trailed off, but Shawn understood. That way, they’d be able to make sure Violet treated the books with the respect they deserved. He nodded approvingly. “If you’re sure, and you don’t mind, then I think this would be a very nice birthday present for Violet.”
His daughter squealed, in the way only six-going-on-seven-year-old girls could squeal. “Oh, thank you, Daddy!” Then she threw her arms around Sadie’s waist. “Thank you, thank you, Miss Sadie! I’ll take really good care of them, I promise. I’ve wanted to read them for a long time because Mrs. Shulman talked about them, but the library didn’t have them, so I figured I’d have to wait ‘til my next school to see if they had them, but now I don’t have to! Yay!”
Most of the little girl’s words were muffled against Sadie’s coat, but he knew that she’d heard his daughter. Sadie wrapped her arms around Violet’s head, and it looked like she’d been about to drop a kiss to the little girl’s brown ponytail, before she thought better of it.
Something inside of Shawn’s chest clenched to think of this woman kissing his daughter. Of being kind to his daughter. Of caring for, and loving, and maybe one day tucking in his daughter and telling her bedtime stories.
Cool it, McAllister. You’re just friends.
He bit back a groan, and ran his hand through his hair. Just friends. Yeah, he could handle this. After all, why would a woman like Sadie—a successful, vibrant, fun woman—want anything more than a friendship with someone like him? Someone who couldn’t hold down a stable job, who couldn’t afford a lease, who had screwed up a past marriage and had killed two of his own buddies?
She wouldn’t. No one would.
“Hey, you two want a ride back? I have a bunch of groceries to get back to the shop, but I’d be happy to drop you off.” Sadie’s offer forced him to focus once more.
“Thanks, but no.” He had to keep some distance if he wanted to leave River’s End Ranch with his heart intact. “Violet and me, this is kinda our time together, you know?”
Sadie smiled sweetly. “That’s really special. Okay!” She shimmied into the front seat, and pointed to the book Violet was clutching to her chest. “Be careful with that one, and I can’t wait to hear what you think. It’s the first one, so it’s a little slow.”
Violet nodded sagely. “Most first books are. The author has to establish stuff.”
“Yep.” There was that cheek-bunching smile that made Shawn want to kiss her. “So don’t get discouraged. It’s not my favorite, but I’ll loan you another as soon as you’re done.”
She slammed the door and started the car. Shawn raised his hand to wave to her, just as she rolled her window down. “Oh! I almost forgot! I don’t know where you get your mail, but you’d better pick it up today!”
Shawn usually gave the Main House’s address when he needed to, like to apply for the Chamber of Commerce contest. “Why?”
“Because the C-of-C responded with visiting times, and there’s not a whole lot of notice. I’m next Saturday morning, for instance. So a little over a week to prep, but that’s okay. I figured you’d want to know your timeslot for when they’re planning to drop by to talk to you about the program, so you could get whatever you needed together.”
Shawn’s mind was still skittering, trying to catch up with what she’d said. “Your timeslot? As in, you entered the contest?”
“Yeah.” She looked at him strangely. “Did I not mention that?” Her lips pulled down and her nose wrinkled into an adorable frown. “I’m sorry. That’s what I was mailing that day we walked to the Post Office. I’m pretty excited about the contest.”
She was entering the contest. They were going to be competing against each other. Shawn didn’t know what to think of that, but he nodded distractedly. “Okay. Thanks. I…I appreciate the heads-up. We’ll stop by the Bunk House on our way back home.”
Violet bounced a little. “Is Miss Carly working? Can I get a piece of candy?”
“Yeah…” He nodded again, and then returned Sadie’s happy little wave.
They were walking before Sadie’s truck had pulled out onto the asphalt, heading towards the center of the ranch, and Shawn was listening to his daughter’s chatter about the Nancy Drew series with only half an ear.
Sadie had entered the Spirit of Riston contest. It made sense; her coffee-and-ice-cream-shop was pretty amazing, between the décor and the offerings. How could he compete against something like that? And why would he want to? She’d done so much for him, for Violet…how could he really pour his heart into beating her?
But if he didn’t, if the summer camps didn’t win that cash prize and the publicity behind the contest, then he wasn’t sure if they’d be successful. He hadn’t had nearly enough sign-ups yet, using the old email management software with all the old contacts stored that the last director had used, and he was hoping that the spring would bring a new round of interest. But
without the PR the contest would bring, he wasn’t confident that this wouldn’t turn out to be another one of his failures.
And if the summer camps failed, he and Violet would have to move on. He wouldn’t be able to stay at River’s End Ranch, and she wouldn’t be able to stay at Riston Elementary. And they’d both have to say goodbye to Sadie.
He couldn’t afford to lose… but competing against her? He wasn’t sure he could afford to win either.
CHAPTER FIVE
Sadie was a few minutes early when she pulled up to spot #45, but she climbed out of her truck anyhow, because Violet was waving happily. Even though the sun had gone down, the little girl was bundled up and holding a jump rope outside the RV.
“Hi, Miss Sadie! I’m glad you’re here!” she said as she came bounding over to throw her arms around Sadie’s middle.
Sadie squeezed the girl back. “Hi, yourself! Thanks for inviting me. Are you jumping rope?”
“Yep.” Violet sighed and rolled her eyes. “Daddy says that I gotta get exercise every day, and I don’t like going on runs with him.”
Over the last week, Sadie had discovered she was quite desperate to know everything about Shawn, and she only felt a teensy bit bad for pumping his daughter for information. “Your Daddy runs?”
“Every morning, I think. Except weekends, when I’m home with him. Then we go on walks together, mostly. He says I have to learn to get outside and like nature as much as my books.” The little girl’s tone and expression told the world exactly what she thought of that.
Sadie just smiled. “Well, keep on jumping rope then. Your daddy is very smart, and I would trust him if I was you.”
“Fiiiine.” It was amazing how grown-up an almost-seven-year-old could sound. “He said that when you got here, you could go on in. Dinner’s almost ready, and I have to jump for ten more minutes, he said.”
Sadie hid her grin at the girl’s disgruntled tone and nodded solemnly. “Okay, thanks. Should I knock?”
“No.” Violet was already backing up and positioning the rope. “He can’t hear you in his room anyhow. Just go on in.”
“Sounds good. Have fun!”
The rhythmic slapping of the rope against the concrete pad was her only response as Sadie made her way towards the RV. It was an older one, but it looked in pretty good shape, from what she knew of campers. The Mayfields had traveled around in one for family vacations a lifetime ago, and this one seemed similar. It was one of those fifth-wheel types—not too long—which Shawn must have to tow around with his truck, then park and disconnect.
The door was unlocked, so she gave a little knock and climbed up the step to push it open. Just like Violet said, Shawn wasn’t in the main area, but the whole place smelled of spaghetti sauce, and was nice and cozy. Directly across from the door was a loveseat in the bump-out, and the small dinette was beside the door, opposite the small—but fully-appointed—kitchen. There was a wall and a door to her left, and several steps leading to a small hallway on the other side of the living quarters.
Sadie was just about to call out a cautious “Hello?” when Shawn stepped into the hallway out of what had to be a bathroom, and her voice—and breath—caught in her throat.
He was facing away from her, and shrugging into a shirt. Which meant that for one, glorious, time-stopping moment, she saw most of him. His skin was tan and his muscles were taut—thanks to that running regimen Violet had mentioned?—and Sadie’s palms itched to run themselves over those shoulders.
He was gorgeous…but it wasn’t the sight of all that skin disappearing under the red flannel shirt he pulled up over his shoulders that had her gasping aloud. It was the marks that covered his flesh.
At the sound of her gasp, Shawn whirled in the hallway, a step away from the door to the small bedroom behind him. His expression might’ve been shocked, but Sadie was too busy staring at his chest to notice. Completely unbidden, she took a cautious step toward him, and then another and another until she’d climbed the short set of stairs and stood before him.
And still, she couldn’t drag her eyes away from the damage spread across his right side. She’d seen more of it from the back, in that momentary glimpse before he’d pulled his shirt on, but now that the flannel hung open, she could see the rest.
“Sadie?” His voice was cautious, as if he wasn’t sure what she was thinking. She wasn’t sure what she was thinking.
Her fingers rose to brush against the scars, and she watched the skin around the pock-marks pucker. Was he cold, or had her touch done that? Sadie was in shock, wondering how a piano teacher could’ve had such damage under his shirt. Why, the back of his right arm and side looked like they’d been shredded; it was a mass of scar tissue.
“Sadie, I…”
Thank goodness he’d trailed off; if he’d asked her to stop touching him, Sadie didn’t think she’d be able to obey. As it was, her fingertips skipped from one scar to the next, tracing and aching at his pain.
“What happened, Shawn?” she whispered, still not able to meet his eyes.
After a long moment, he took a deep, shuddering breath. “IED.” That’s when she looked up at him. He must’ve seen her confusion, because even though his expression was guarded, he elaborated. “An Improvised Explosive Device. I was on patrol and it got me from behind.”
That explained why the scarring was so much worse across his back and his right side. Her eyes darted across his face, looking for some hint, some clue as to why he’d closed up all of a sudden. “You were in the army?”
A terse nod. “Four years. Two deployments, five months in rehab, and then the rest of my tour sitting behind a desk processing recruitment files.”
Shawn McAllister, Mr. Hottie, Dad Extraordinaire, was actually a war hero? “How come you didn’t tell me this?”
It was the wrong question. Shawn stepped backward, away from her touch, and began to button up the shirt. When he took the time to tuck it in and square it away—still not looking at her—Sadie put some of the hints together. Despite his too-long hair and his scruffy beard, his clothing was always neat, and he carried himself with a sense of clear purpose…like he always knew exactly where he was in relation to the people around him. Not exactly grace, but awareness she hadn’t been able to identify.
But it was obvious he wasn’t proud of his service; instead of being flustered or embarrassed by her approval, Shawn was obviously angry. And wasn’t that just interesting?
She decided to drop the subject for the moment, and instead pressed herself against the outside wall as he squeezed past her in the hallway. It was too bad she was still wearing her coat; it would’ve been nice to feel him brush against her.
So much for thinking of him as a friend, huh, Sade?
He was gorgeous, and caring, and apparently pretty darn mysterious. And she was utterly enthralled with him. The back of her head knocked against the wall of the RV as she let it drop with a groan. He was everything she’d ever wanted—dreamed of!—in a man, and he thought of her as a friend. Worse still, she’d just royally ticked him off.
There probably wasn’t anything Sadie could do to get out of this “dinner-with-friends” thing Violet had suggested, not without being incredibly rude. So she’d just have to suck up the awkwardness and deal with it. She wanted to be here, with him—with both of them—regardless of how he felt about her.
Luckily, when she offered to help serve dinner, Shawn only grunted and pointed to a stack of white Corelle plates when he pulled the garlic bread from the oven. She quickly dished up hearty servings for herself and Shawn—she had no idea how much he’d eat, but probably at least the same amount she did, right? She did like pasta—and a smaller portion for Violet.
The little girl came in just as Shawn was putting the pan on the small dinette table, and hung up her jump rope and coat on the hooks beside the door. When they all sat down at the table, Violet was the one to offer the blessing, and soon her cheerful chatter about school and the Nancy Drew book thawed the silence
between the adults.
Sadie was surprised how much she enjoyed chatting with an almost-seven-year-old. It probably helped that the little girl was a bookworm too, and they had a lot in common. “So you get most of your books from the library, huh? That’s how I did it when I was your age, but I had to get my mom to drive me.”
“I get mine from the school library during recess times. Mrs. Shulman lets me hang out there.”
Sadie swallowed her bite of spaghetti and darted a glance at Shawn. “Every day? Don’t your friends miss you outside?”
Toying with her pasta, Violet shrugged. “They don’t really care. I’m new, and I probably won’t be here long. So I guess…” She shrugged again, and Sadie saw the false bravado in the gesture. “I guess I don’t have too many friends.”
I probably won’t be here long.
As the little girl’s words sunk in, Sadie made eye contact with Shawn, and saw the pain in his beautiful green eyes in the moment before he turned his attention back to his plate.
Violet and her father were used to “moving on.” Used to not staying long in one place. Used to not having friends.
In that moment, Sadie knew that no matter her secret feelings for Shawn, if he wanted to just be her friend, she would be honored. This tiny family needed a friend, and she would willingly fill that position, even if that’s all she could ever be to them.
Even if her heart broke a little at the thought.
“Well.” She forced a cheerful smile for the girl’s benefit. “That’s just not true. You’ve got me, first of all, and I’ll bet there are a bunch of kids in your class who’d jump at the chance to be your friend, if you gave them a chance.”
Shawn cleared his throat, even though he kept his attention on his food. “How about that girl you met at Mrs. Hardy’s? Vivian. You said she was your friend.”
Violet just pushed the spaghetti around on her plate. “I guess.”
“Have you given them any chances to become your friend?” Sadie asked gently.
