“I’m so sorry you lost him, Dawson. He sounds like such a fun-loving brother.”
Tapping his chest, he said, “Toby lives with me to this day, in my heart. I carry a photo of him in my wallet and part of my losing him, the grief, has been healed because he does live with me to this day.”
“That’s a beautiful way to look at life . . . at such awful loss. I admire that you can do it.”
Shrugging, Dawson said, “Well, I don’t like the other choice. There’s nothing that’s bringing him back, but that doesn’t mean we throw away our memories of him either. My parents are great role models for me. They didn’t push Toby’s death under a rug, they didn’t jam it down inside them and never speak of him again. Instead? Even shortly after his death, my mom and dad would talk about him, the foods he liked or hated, at the dinner table at night. We had some good laughs about Toby’s eating habits, among other things.” His voice softened. “Looking back on those years, my parents did a lot to help me deal with the guilt I carried about that day. By the time I was eighteen, and maybe a little bit more mature? I no longer carried as much guilt over the accident.”
“That’s a blessing in itself,” Sarah said quietly. “Maybe hanging around you when we get time will help me in some way.”
Dawson looked up at her, frowning, but he said nothing.
“Well,” Sarah said, “let’s get moseying on down the line. I’m sure we’ll find another rotted post sooner or later.” She had to get moving; the look he gave her scared her. It was as if he was looking in to her like she was a crystal ball, clearly seeing her own guilt and loss. Her mind said it was impossible, but the unsettled feeling, and then that warmth that enveloped her, was real. Or maybe it was just her imagination, because she felt safe and trusted him far more than she should.
Chapter Eight
June 18
Dawson tried to quell the tension gripping his gut as he sat down in the living room of Reese and Shay’s home. They’d invited him for dinner and then dessert afterward, promising everyone they had an important announcement to share with all the vets. Sarah had been invited, because she was a strong part of the fabric of the Bar C, and one of Shay’s good friends.
He had been disappointed, though, when Shay received a call before dinner that Sarah was working a car accident about three miles outside of town. She said she’d try to make it for dessert with them, if she got lucky.
He tried not to broadcast how badly he wanted to see her. It had been Saturday with her that had stoked the fire in him, making him realize how lonely he was without a woman in his life. Women completed men and vice versa in his world. He had happy parents who were not only best friends, but who also deeply loved each other. And now, as he sat on one end of an empty couch, his gaze swept the room. Garret Fleming sat with his wife, Kira. Noah Mabry was with Dair Wilson. Harper had his arm around Tara’s shoulders on a love seat. They were all radiantly happy, all hopelessly in love with one another, just as Reese and Shay were. He was surrounded by true joy and love, but he also felt the ache of loneliness so cutting, reminding him that he hungered for a partner as well. His parents loved him, of course. Oh, and he had good friends, but that was a different kind of love. He wanted what all his military vet friends had discovered: a special, deep, fulfilling love with the right partner.
Shay looked radiant, her cheeks flushed a deep pink and her eyes dancing with a secret she wanted so badly to share with everyone. Reese, who was normally taciturn and gave little away in his expression, seemed buoyant, a gleam in his eyes as he studied his young wife with her naturally curly brown and gold hair. He sat with her on another sofa, Shay’s hand resting on his thigh, his large hand over her much smaller one.
There was a sense of protection from each man toward the woman they loved, Dawson noted. And the look of love in the women’s eyes for their men warmed him. For once, these vets, who had suffered so much, had found an island of peace and happiness in the everyday challenges that went on in their lives. It was a touching moment for him and he absorbed it fully, happy for all of them.
The doorbell rang.
“Oh, I bet that’s Sarah!” Shay cried, popping up, hurrying out of the huge living room and heading down the hall to the foyer.
Dawson’s heart pounded harder when he heard Sarah’s low, husky voice and Shay answering her. His hands stilled on his thighs, his gaze riveted on the hallway, waiting for her to appear.
Sarah was still in uniform and she looked stressed to Dawson as she and Shay halted at the entrance. He stood up, and instantly, her gaze swung to his, clinging to him for just a moment. He felt so much in that glance. Looking at her uniform, he saw blood splatters across her left arm and shoulder. It had to be a bad accident, was all he could think.
“Hey, everyone,” Sarah called, lifting her hand to all of them, “sorry I’m late.”
The room gave Sarah a welcoming chorus of hellos in return.
“Shay has agreed to lend me some civilian clothes.” Sarah pointed to the bloodstains on her blouse. “I wanted to be here tonight, but I don’t want the smell to be a reminder of the accident investigation, so if you’ll give us about ten or so minutes? We’ll be back and then we can hear what Shay and Reese have to tell us.”
Dawson stood uncertainly, wanting to go to Sarah, seeing the tightness of the skin across her cheekbones. But there was nothing he could do about it in that moment.
“Sure,” Garret called, “get cleaned up.” He looked toward the kitchen. “Me and Kira will get the dessert ready. By the time you get back, you can make yourself at home with Dawson on that couch and we’ll have the chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream ready.”
“Sounds good to me,” Sarah said, relieved, giving Dawson a warm look that was more than a casual hello.
“Come on,” Shay whispered, gripping her hand, pulling her down the hall. “Let’s go find you some clean clothes.”
After they had left, Garret and Kira went to the kitchen. So did Dawson. He wanted to do something . . . anything. His protective mechanisms were working overtime. As he came up to where Garret was cutting the three-layer cake he had made, Dawson asked, “What can I do to help?”
Garret slanted him a glance, ignoring his question. “She’s okay, Dawson. Really.”
“How do you know that?”
“Sarah’s been a fixture around here for as long as I’ve been here. She’s one of us. There’s been a few other times when she’s come to our Friday-night therapy sessions with Lilly Hilbert, and walked in off an accident investigation she had to take care of first. She’s solid.”
Kira pointed to the cabinet above where he stood. “Get us plates, Dawson? You’re taller than I am,” and she smiled, resting her hand comfortingly against his upper arm.
“You bet,” he said.
“Oh, and get the bowls next to them? I’m going to grab the ice cream out of the freezer,” Kira said.
Garret began to place the slices on the large dessert plates. His voice was low. “I saw how Sarah looked at you.”
Dawson held out another plate so he could put another slice of cake on it. “What do you mean?”
“There’s something building between the two of you, isn’t there?”
One thing Dawson had learned was that no one could fool Garret Fleming. The man was a mind reader at times, he grimly decided. “I’m not sure.”
“Are you sure you want it to happen, if there is?” and he arched a sandy eyebrow in his direction, holding Dawson’s gaze.
There was no way around Garret, so he leveled with him. “Yes, I’m hoping there is.”
“Thought so. Sarah leads a hectic life. She doesn’t have much time for herself. She comes out here every Saturday, if there isn’t something going on that requires her attention as sheriff, and that’s her me time, from what I can see.”
“Good to know.”
“Yeah,” he muttered, a grin edging his mouth, “and if I were you? I’d sure as hell take advantage of that situation. She work
s too hard, doesn’t get enough rest, is overresponsible, like all women, has to work twice as hard to prove to the men that she’s just as capable as they are. You know the routine.”
“We’re on the same page with that one,” Dawson said. He saw Kira coming back with the ice cream. “Thanks for your input.”
Garret nodded, continuing to slice cake and place it on the plates. “Anytime.”
Dawson busied himself helping Kira with doling out the ice cream. He was carrying the dessert into the living room when he saw Shay and Sarah reappear at the entrance to the living room. His heart soared. Sarah was tall and medium-boned, while Shay was much smaller and petite. Somehow, they had found a set of gray gym pants and a gray T-shirt top for Sarah that pretty much fit her.
“Thanks to Reese,” Shay announced with a grin, “Sarah is wearing his gym stuff, but at least it fits her. All my clothes are way too small for her.”
Everyone laughed, and Sarah did, too.
“Well, I’m not exactly ready for a fashion runway, but this will do.” Sarah reached out, squeezing Reese’s broad shoulder, “And thank you for the loan, big guy.”
Reese nodded. “You give them a whole new meaning, Sarah.”
The room filled with approving nods and chuckles.
“They’ll probably never fit you the same, Reese,” she teased drily, coming over to the couch where Dawson had been sitting. Taking a seat, she added, “and I’d much rather be here tonight than anywhere else.”
Shay beamed and sat down next to Reese, who took her hand and squeezed it gently, giving her a loving look. “This wouldn’t be right without you here with us, Sarah.”
Between Garret, Kira and Dawson serving, they gave everyone their dessert. Dawson had been the last to sit down, and he liked how relaxed Sarah was now. He slid the bowl and plate in her direction on the coffee table that sat in front of their couch.
“Have you eaten dinner?” he wondered, sitting about two feet away from her.
“I grabbed a sandwich one of my deputies made earlier,” she said.
He knew how he felt after a firefight and there had been blood spilled. “How’s your appetite?”
Sarah picked up her fork after placing a paper napkin on her thigh. “I’m hungry.”
It served to tell him that even after traumatic accidents, Sarah had the ability to wall off that experience and still maintain a good grip on reality. But in her job? She needed to project that kind of calm and quiet to those around her.
“Okay, everyone, dig in!” Shay urged excitedly.
For the next fifteen minutes there wasn’t much chatter, just a lot of spoons clinking in the ice cream bowls and forks used to eat the cake Garret had baked earlier. Lots of pleasurable sounds and appreciation came from everyone. Dawson covertly watched Sarah out of the corner of his eye from time to time. She had folded one long leg beneath her, and he saw that she was seriously relaxed, which made him feel inner relief.
Sarah ate everything, just as everyone else did. She didn’t take any prisoners, and Dawson was somewhat mollified to see she had a genuine appetite. His admiration for her raised another notch.
Garret and Kira gathered up all the emptied plates and flatware afterward, taking them to the kitchen and then placing them in the dishwasher.
Dawson was going to help, but Garret had caught his glance and gave a subtle shake of his head, so he remained at Sarah’s side. He noticed Shay was almost unable to sit still. She kept casting a bursting, happy smile up at Reese, and then would survey everyone with undisguised affection. Shay considered everyone in this room to be more than a friend to her: They were her family. Her cheeks deepened in color as Garret and Kira returned and sat down.
“Okay,” Garret said to her, “spill the beans, Shay. What’s going on that you’re moving around like you have ants in your pants?”
“Yeah,” Dair spoke up, laughing, “you’re killing us with all the suspense!”
There was a lot of laughter and a unanimous chorus of agreement among the group.
Shay stood up, her hands gripped nervously in front of her. “Well,” she began, “for the longest time, since Reese and I married, we’ve wanted to start a family.” She placed her hand protectively across her abdomen. “I’m three months pregnant.”
Dawson heard the women gasp and then give whoops of joy. All of them, including Sarah, got up, rushed over to Shay, surrounded her, hugging her and congratulating her. Reese beamed.
Garret, Noah and Harper all nodded and gave each other and Reese a thumbs-up. The women were bubbling with celebration, surrounding Shay, who was so petite and shorter than any of the other women vets that she disappeared from view. There were lots of tears shared among the women. Dawson understood from Garret in another conversation they’d had, that Sarah loved children. That was evidenced by her working closely with the Delos Charity food bank in the town. Her focus was on children from lower economic means, making sure they got solid breakfasts to start off their schooldays. She was ceaseless in going around Wyoming giving talks to any group or organization who invited her, to donate money so that Delos could keep feeding the children in her county.
Finally, the women broke up their circle around Shay, kissed her cheek and all sat down with their partners once more. Dawson saw the tears in Sarah’s eyes as she sat a little closer to him this time. She reached out, placing her hand over his.
“Isn’t this wonderful?” she quavered.
Turning his hand over, shocked by her unexpected touch, he curved his fingers around hers, squeezing them lightly. “Yes, it’s a good thing.” He didn’t want to release her fingers, but he did, giving her the option to stay or leave. She reluctantly untangled her fingers from his. Still, there was a look in her green eyes, glimmering with unshed tears, and it was new and welcome. Sarah had wanted to be close to him. More warmth wrapped around his heart. Hope took root.
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner, Shay?” Dair asked.
Wiping her eyes, she sat next to Reese. “Because I was afraid.”
“Afraid?” Kira asked gently. “Of what?”
Making a muffled sound, Shay raised her hands. “With my father, the legal things he’s hitting the ranch with, I was afraid I might miscarry. You all know I don’t take stress real well.”
“You take it well enough,” Noah growled, frowning. “You’re stronger than anyone I’ve ever met, Shay.”
Reese smoothed his hand across Shay’s tense shoulders. “She wanted to wait a while, get past all the legal issues. That’s a new stress and pretty hard on everyone.” He gave his wife a kind look. “We talked it over and felt it was better to wait it out for a while. Shay’s now moving into her second trimester, and her doctor said that chances of miscarriage go down because she’s learning to handle the new stresses.”
“Sorry, gang,” Shay whispered off-key, “but I wanted this baby so badly that I just didn’t have the courage to overcome my own fear about losing her or him if I told you too soon.”
“It’s okay,” Tara soothed. “We all understand. Don’t feel bad that you didn’t tell us sooner. The more important question is: What can we do to help you destress while you’re pregnant?”
Sarah added, “Too bad we can’t do what the Native Americans used to do before white men came to their country. When a woman got pregnant, she was set into a teepee away from the others, surrounded by other women, kept out of any stress within the village so she could be calm and focus on her pregnancy. They believed that when a woman was given that kind of calming environment, she’s happy, and so is the baby she carries.”
“I’ve heard of that,” Shay said. “And Reese and I have talked about that very thing. It’s my father who’s creating the stress on me right now; I’ve just got to continue to disconnect from what he’s trying to do to the ranch.”
Harper Sutton spoke up. “Funny thing, Shay. Right now in my college classes on becoming a paramedic, they’re all about how to deliver a baby,” and he grinned crookedly. “At leas
t you have me around. I may not be an MD, but my combat corpsman background gave me plenty of opportunities when I worked with Afghan midwives who were caring for mothers giving birth. I’d stand outside the hut and they’d come out and tell me what was going on, and I could give them feedback to help the mom in labor.” He straightened a bit more, pride in his tone. “I helped deliver ten babies via the midwives because men aren’t allowed by Islamic law to be with a woman in labor or deliver her baby. Only other women, midwives, can help her.”
“Reese and I thought about you, Harper. And we’re both grateful you’re here on the Bar C while I’m pregnant.” Shay gave him a look of relief. “And you have no idea how much we rely on you because you’re a medic.”
Harper wriggled his eyebrows, holding up his hands. “I have every confidence I could assist you in anything that came up, Shay. I can let the firefighters at the station, who are already paramedics, know about your condition, too. That way, everyone is prepared. Are you going to the hospital or going to have a home birth?”
Shay sighed. “I want a home birth. My doctor, Kate Donnelly, has her office in Jackson Hole and she isn’t so sure, but she said as long as there are no complications, she’d be willing to come out and assist. And if I have to have emergency help, we have our small hospital five miles away from the ranch.”
“Best of all worlds,” Harper agreed. “Do you have a midwife picked out?”
“Yes. Kate gave me a list of midwives from the area and I hired two of them.”
“Good,” Harper said. “When they come over if I’m around, could you introduce us? They’ll be happy to know they’ll have another medical person with some experience around, just in case.”
“Oh, for sure I will,” Shay said eagerly. “We’re so grateful you’re here, Harper, believe me.”
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