Czytaj książkę: «A Rancher To Remember»

Chapter One

Olivia Martin pulled to a stop in front of the low ranch house, squinting against the late afternoon sunlight. She turned off her car and got out. The spring breeze was chilly, but the sunlight was welcomingly warm. She slipped on her leather jacket, and did a full turn, taking in the newly green fields to the west and the wooden fence that separated the house from the rest of the ranch. A beaten-up Chevy pickup was parked by the house, and the screen door was propped open. A child’s babble filtered out of the open door—a squeal, and then a laugh.

Olivia wouldn’t have come back to Beaut, if it weren’t for the crushing debt that her mother’s battle with cancer had left hanging over her and her brother. She had her own reasons for steering clear of this town, but it wasn’t just about her. Her brother, Brian, had stayed in Beaut after their mother’s death, burdened by a debt load that had stalled his life completely, leaving a tense bitterness between them. If her brother was going to have anything to do with her again, she needed to find a financial solution that would help him out. But the solution she’d found all depended on her old friend Sawyer West.

Olivia didn’t expect to find Sawyer at the house in the middle of the day. He was employed here at his uncle’s ranch, after all, and she’d figured he’d be out in a field somewhere. But standing by the fence, a boot hooked on the lowest rung and his hat pushed back on his head, was a familiar figure. She couldn’t see his face from where she stood, but she’d know Sawyer anywhere. A smile came to her lips as she sent up a silent prayer of thanks. Maybe this would be easier than she thought, because she sure had been praying hard for some success here with Sawyer.

“Sawyer!” she called. He didn’t move, and she started toward him, her boots crunching against gravel until she hit the grass. “Sawyer!”

He turned then, slowly and deliberately. He’d always been a good-looking guy and that hadn’t changed, but he’d hardened over the last two years since his wife’s death. Those laughing brown eyes had become flinty and cautious, and he seemed to have more scruff on his chin now than he used to wear before. She knew that the last couple of years had been hard on him... There was a white bandage on the side of his forehead, looking out of place. His level gaze landed on her, but his expression didn’t change.

“Hi!” Olivia felt her smile falter. “Sorry to just drop in like this, but—”

Sawyer looked at her quizzically, then his gaze slid past her toward the house.

“Sawyer?” she said.

“Who are you?” he said uncertainly.

Was he joking? But there was no hint of humor in those chiseled features. Something was very wrong here. She heard the screen door slam behind her and glanced over her shoulder to see Lloyd West, Sawyer’s uncle, sauntering toward her, carrying a blonde toddler in each arm. Lloyd was an awkwardly proportioned man. He had long arms and legs, hands and feet that seemed too big for the rest of his body, a sparsely whiskered face, a totally bald pate and a large nose. The toddlers seemed to be taking a real delight in trying to reach up and touch his shiny head.

“I know I probably should have called first, but I wanted to surprise you,” Olivia said, turning back to Sawyer. She smiled sheepishly. “Surprise.”

Sawyer smiled weakly, still eyeing her uncertainly. “You know me?”

Olivia blinked. Was he being serious right now? No, surely not. So why the act? Was he angry still? She licked her lips.

“I know it’s been a while, Sawyer, but come on. This is just cruel.”

Lloyd arrived then, and he put the toddlers down. One went for Sawyer’s leg, and the other squatted down to pick grass.

“Olivia,” Lloyd said with a lopsided smile that revealed a gap where he’d lost a tooth. He stuck out his hand. They shook, and Lloyd looked toward his nephew. “Do you remember her?”

“No.” Sawyer’s voice was low. “I’ve got nothing.”

“This is Olivia Martin. She’s an old friend.”

Sawyer gave her a curt nod. “Pleasure.”

“What do you mean?” Olivia’s mind was spinning. “Lloyd, what’s going on?” Her gaze stopped at the little girls. They had bright blue eyes, identical smiles and curls that had been gathered into nubby little pigtails at the sides of their heads. These would be Sawyer’s daughters—the reason Sawyer’s in-laws were so eager to reconcile with him to begin with. Even as she looked at Lloyd for some sort of explanation, she knew it couldn’t happen in front of the girls.

Taking the hint, Lloyd angled his head toward the house and took a step back, and Olivia followed him a few paces off. Sawyer watched them for a moment, then scooped the toddler into his arms and turned back toward the field.

“Sawyer was in an accident a couple of days ago,” Lloyd said, keeping his voice low. “He got kicked in the head by a cow when he was trying to put the chains on her for a difficult delivery. He was unconscious for about five minutes, and when he came to...this.” Lloyd sighed.

“What is this?” Olivia demanded.

“Temporary amnesia. He doesn’t remember anything. We took him to the hospital and they did a bunch of tests. The doctor says his memory should come back here pretty soon, so right now, it’s just a waiting game.”

“So Sawyer doesn’t remember me?” she asked hesitantly.

“Don’t take it personally,” Lloyd replied with a shrug. “He doesn’t remember me, either. Or his girls.”

She watched as the toddler who was playing in the grass headed in her father’s direction. Sawyer put down the other girl, and they both reached for their father and clutched at his jeans. He smoothed a hand over the tops of their heads but didn’t lean down to pick them up again.

“How long does it normally take to get memory back with his kind of injury?” she asked.

“A week or two, the doctor says,” Lloyd replied. “The damage isn’t too bad. It could have been a lot worse. But it’s good you’re here. Maybe you can jostle a few memories loose for him.”

Olivia smiled wanly. “If his own daughters aren’t enough... Maybe with Mia gone, he doesn’t want to remember.”

Mia was Sawyer’s late wife, and Sawyer and Mia had been Olivia’s best friends, but that was a long time ago.

“Well, his girls need their father to come back to himself,” Lloyd retorted. “So, he’d better start pulling up a few memories, no matter how painful they might be.”

Olivia pulled her fingers through her sandy blond curls. Her mind was spinning. She was here to try and mend fences between Sawyer and his in-laws. Mia’s parents, Wyatt and Irene White, had made her a deal: if she could soften Sawyer up enough to allow them access to their granddaughters, then they’d use their clout with the hospital board to help reduce the medical bills from her mother’s illness. The weight of that debt had been the reason her brother wouldn’t speak to her anymore. One reconciled family for another—that was the deal. But the timing couldn’t be worse. If Sawyer couldn’t remember anything, how could he reconcile with the Whites? But then again, if he couldn’t remember, maybe he’d be okay with them visiting the girls, after all.

Using his amnesia that way was underhanded, and she knew it. Olivia was an honest woman, and she wasn’t willing to manipulate an already vulnerable situation, no matter how high the stakes were. Sawyer’s memory would come back. That’s what the doctors said, right? She could hold off on convincing him until then.

One of the toddlers drummed her hands against Sawyer’s leg and started to cry. He bent down and picked her up then, and she tipped her curly head against his shoulder. He patted her back awkwardly, murmuring something to her that Olivia couldn’t make out.

“The problem is,” Lloyd went on, “we’re real busy right now what with calving and all. Sawyer being out of it has slowed us down, and I’ve had to stick around the house to watch him and the girls, so that sets me back even further.”

“Yes, I could see that being tough,” she agreed.

“How long are you out here for?” Lloyd asked.

Olivia had two weeks off of work at the hospital in Billings, and she wasn’t planning on staying a day longer than it took to iron things out around here. But there was slim chance of a reconciliation happening by then if Sawyer couldn’t remember anything.

“A couple of weeks, I suppose,” she replied.

“Because if you’d be willing to pitch in here with Sawyer, keep an eye on the kids a bit—”

“Who normally watches them?” she asked with a frown.

“Ellen Guise was their nanny. One of our relatives. But yesterday, she got a call from her daughter. Some sort of emergency with her mother-in-law in Tennessee. So she had to go,” Lloyd said. “I mean, she’ll be back in a few weeks, but it’s just tough timing all round. Look, the thing is, I can’t offer to pay you or anything. I’m in a real bind. Everyone else is as busy as I am with their own cattle, so I don’t have anywhere else to turn right now. It would free me up to get back to work. I’m just asking as a favor. I mean, if you had the time, or something. Besides, maybe you can help him to remember.”

Lloyd met her gaze pleadingly, and he rubbed a hand over his bald head. Then he let his hand drop to his side.

She’d come back to Beaut for two things: to try and reconcile Sawyer to his late wife’s family, and to do a little reconciling of her own with her brother. She couldn’t do either of those things until Sawyer was back to himself. When she needed his help so badly, how could she turn down the chance to help him in turn? Besides, this was Sawyer. She had some hard memories in this town, and she didn’t trust people to have changed a whole lot. But Sawyer had been one of the good ones. She sighed, glancing back at the rugged cowboy by the fence. She’d have to help him—she knew that.

“Do you think Sawyer wants me here?” she asked quietly.

“It’s all the same to him, I think,” Lloyd said. “At first, he was pretty freaked out, not remembering anything. Now he just seems like he’s given up. Stands there and looks out at the fields. I can’t let him come with me like this—he’s another accident waiting to happen. He needs someone to hang out with him, remind him of things.”

“Well... I do need to try and sort a few things out with my brother while I’m here,” she said. “But I could pitch in. For a few days, at least.”

“Would you?” Lloyd asked, a relieved smile breaking over his face. “Olivia, you have no idea how much that would help me. I don’t want to push you into anything, of course...”

“No, no, I’m happy to help,” she said.

“Thank you. Would it put you out too much to live here? I know you probably have something else arranged, but it would be great if you could stay in the house with us. I’ve got an office on the opposite end of the house from where me and Sawyer sleep. There’s a single bed in there. So it’ll be comfortable enough for you, and feel free to eat whatever you want from the fridge...”

“No problem,” Olivia said. “I’ve got a room booked at the hotel in town, but I can cancel that.” She’d help where she could, make some time to try to visit with her brother, and maybe by the time she left, Sawyer would be back to normal and he’d be willing to sit down with his late wife’s parents and make peace. God worked in mysterious ways, and perhaps this was all part of a bigger plan.

She could only hope. Because right now, her biggest priority was her relationship with her brother, and if she couldn’t offer him some sort of reprieve from their troubles, she doubted that he’d want anything to do with her again.

* * *

Sawyer looked down at the curly-headed toddler in his arms, and he struggled to latch on to a memory...any memory, but he came up empty. He hated this helpless, confused feeling, knowing these little girls were expecting something from him that he didn’t know how to give.

“Daddy.” She blinked at him, her big blue eyes fixed on his face hopefully. What she wanted from him, he wasn’t sure. He’d known these children for two days now, and everything before that was darkness. They seemed to know him well enough. Just like everyone else around here. Ranch hands, his uncle, doctors...they all called him Sawyer, which was his name, apparently, except for these little cuties. His heart softened just looking at them... They called him Daddy.

Sawyer couldn’t tell them apart. Lloyd told him that they were named Elizabeth and Isabella, or Lizzie and Bella for short. And they adored him and relied on him. They clambered into his lap, played with his shirt pockets and carried him a fresh diaper when they needed a change. The first time they’d done that, he’d been stunned, but Lloyd had assured him that this was his job. He was their dad, after all. And apparently, Lloyd wasn’t keen on diaper duty.

There wasn’t a mother in the picture. Sawyer had asked about that, and Lloyd had filled him in that his wife had died in childbirth. He didn’t remember his wife. Lloyd had dug out a wedding album, and he’d seen smiling people he didn’t recognize. Even the groom seemed like a stranger to him. The bride didn’t ring any bells, either. But she was pretty, and he knew he must have loved her by the look on his face in those pictures.

Lloyd and the young woman started walking toward him again. She was pretty, too, but in a different way from the bride in the photos. Olivia—wasn’t that what Lloyd had called her? She was relaxed, wearing jeans over the tops of her boots, and a blouse with a leather jacket on top of it all. Her hair was loose and curly, a dark blond color, and when her gaze met his, he noted the dark brown of her eyes.

“So, Olivia is going to stay with us for a few days,” Lloyd said as they approached.

“Oh, yeah?” Sawyer raised an eyebrow.

“I understand that you don’t remember me, but I’m—” Olivia swallowed, her gaze moving down to the toddler at his knees, then snapping back up to his face. “I’m your friend. We’ve got quite a history, and I was actually coming back to town to see you. So, if I can help out, I want to. I mean, if you’d be comfortable with me here...”

Sawyer shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

There was something about her—something almost comforting—that tickled in the back of his mind. But even without that, he understood why Lloyd wanted her to stay. Sawyer knew that he was in the way here at the house, on the ranch...everywhere. Lloyd was antsy, and he had other things he’d rather be doing than babysitting some confused cowboy who didn’t know his boots from his teakettle.

But I’m a cowboy, he thought to himself. Lloyd had told him that, and it felt right, somehow.

“I’ve got to get back out to the fields,” Lloyd said. “And Olivia can help with the girls.”

“Yeah, that would be great...” Sawyer didn’t mean to sound quite so relieved, but he was in over his head with Lizzie and Bella. He might be their dad, but that biological fact didn’t seem to be much help right now. “Look, I don’t remember anything...you included.”

“Lloyd filled me in,” she replied. “But your injury isn’t supposed to be permanent, so maybe while I’m here, I can help you remember a few things.”

“Did you know their mother?” he asked, glancing down at the toddlers.

“I was Mia’s best friend,” she said with a sad smile. “And yours, once upon a time. We three were inseparable there for a while. I was a bridesmaid at your wedding.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “I saw the photos, but you probably look different out of that frilly dress.”

“Yeah, I would.” She smiled.

So maybe she’d be an authoritative source for information. “Okay. You sure you don’t have better things to do?”

“Not really.” She shrugged. “You wouldn’t remember my brother, Brian, but he’s the only family I’ve got in town, so...”

“So, we’re settled then?” Lloyd interrupted, glancing at his watch. “Because if I could get out to the fields and pitch in tonight, it would make it easier on the rest of the guys.”

“Yes,” Olivia said, shooting Lloyd a smile. “Do what you need to do. We’ll be fine.”

“And you’re okay with this, right?” Lloyd asked him.

Sawyer shrugged. “Sure.”

It wasn’t like he remembered any of them right now, anyway. Olivia sounded rather confident, and maybe that was a good thing.

“Okay. Well, I’m going to head out for a couple of hours, and then I’ll come back and check in with you,” Lloyd said. He pulled a piece of paper and the nub of a pencil out of his pocket. He tore off a corner and scribbled on it. “That’s my cell number if you need me.”

“Thanks.” She looked at it, then tucked it into her pocket.

Lloyd gave them both a nod, then headed over to the pickup truck. Was it just him, or did Lloyd look like he was just about running to get out of here? Sawyer wasn’t sure he blamed him.

“I guess that leaves just us,” Sawyer said. “I feel like I should apologize for this.”

“Whatever,” she said. “It isn’t your fault.”

“No, but it’s highly inconvenient,” he replied. “Apparently, I usually work here. A lot of use I am like this.”

“You’re Lloyd’s nephew,” she said with a shake of her head. “You’re family.”

“Right.” He wished that meant more to him right now.

Sawyer scooped up one toddler then looked down at the child attached to his leg. He kept his leg straight, lifting her along with him as he headed back toward the house. The toddler squealed in delight, and he couldn’t help but laugh softly.

“So, one of them is Lizzie, and the other is Bella. I haven’t figured out which is which yet,” he said. “Do you know, by any chance?”

“I last saw your girls when they were newborns,” Olivia replied. “So I’m not much help. Wait—” She reached out toward the toddler in his arms and took her hand. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Lizzie...” the girl whispered. Olivia shot him a grin, and then bent down to the other toddler. “Is your name Bella?”

The other girl grinned impishly. “Lizzie!”

Olivia straightened and laughed softly. “Never mind. I thought I was onto something.”

“I tried that,” he admitted. “And Lloyd says he can’t tell them apart, either. When we figure it out, I’m going to have to mark them somehow.”

“What...like with a permanent marker?” she asked, shooting him a teasing look.

“You’re joking, but it’s not a bad idea,” he countered. “Apparently, I could tell them apart before, but now...” Sadness welled up inside of him, and he tried to push it back. “They say it’ll come back to me. Until it does, a nice B or L on their hands would be helpful.”

Sawyer disentangled the little girl from his leg, and then put his other daughter on the ground next to her. They scampered on ahead.

“Do you remember the accident?” Olivia asked.

“No,” he said. “The first thing I remember is waking up with blood on my face, and riding to the hospital in town. I don’t remember anything before it.”

“Nothing?” she asked, squinting over at him.

He shook his head. “Well, I mean, I remember some funny little things, like which cupboard holds the salt shaker. If I’m not thinking about it, I can go through the motions for some basic chores like washing dishes or making coffee.”

“So, the muscle memories are in there,” she said.

“Seems like,” he agreed.

“I’m a nurse, you know,” she said. “I work in an emergency room, and I’ve dealt with people with partial memory loss after a head injury, but never anything this complete. In the cases I’ve worked with, the patients usually get their memories back within a couple of hours.”

“Yeah?” He eyed her curiously. Maybe she could be helpful after all.

“What did the doctors tell you—exactly?”

“It’s a brain injury. Kind of like a bruise. But it isn’t getting worse, and it should heal in a week or two. My memory should return. They said they’ve seen it before.”

“Okay, that’s a good sign,” she said with a nod. “I’m sure relaxing a bit will help with that.”

He shot her a rueful look. “Try relaxing when the most important parts of your life have been erased from your head. Besides—I want to get out there. Do something. Feel useful.”

“That’s your way,” she said with a low laugh.

“What do you mean?”

“You like to work. You always did. You worked harder than any cowboy here.”

That wasn’t a bad thing. He smiled at the description. “It could be worse.”

“You need to relax,” she said, and her tone wasn’t amused.

The toddlers stopped at the steps of the house and turned around, heading back toward them. Their curls bounced as they ran, and one of them came straight for Olivia. She bent down and swept the girl up in her arms, planting her on her hip. The move was so natural that he found himself smiling at her.

Sawyer caught the second girl, and picked her up, too. It was easier with two adults. They weren’t outnumbered, and Olivia seemed more natural with the girls than Sawyer was.

“What’s your name?” Olivia asked brightly.

“Bella.”

“Yeah, you’re Bella?”

“Bella.”

Sawyer looked at the toddler in his arms. “Hey, Lizzie,” he said softly.

“Daddy...”

Sawyer looked over at Olivia, his heart speeding up. “Did we just do it?”

“I think we know who’s who,” she agreed.

“Okay, don’t put her down,” Sawyer said, waggling a finger at Olivia. “We’re finding a marker.”

“That was a joke,” she laughed.

“It was a good idea. I need to tell them apart.”

Sawyer led the way up the steps and into the side door of the ranch house. He might not remember much, but he did have a mental picture in his mind of a junk drawer of some sorts that had a big felt-tipped marker inside. He looked around the kitchen, unsure of where to start, so he began at the first drawer he saw, pulling it open, then closing it when it wasn’t the right one. On the fifth drawer, he found it.

“There we go.” He pulled out the marker with a grin. “If there were a mother I’d have to explain myself to, I might be a little more worried. But I’m their dad, right?”

“So I’ve been told,” she replied with a small smile.

“Yeah, well, as their dad, I figure telling them apart is pretty important. I need something that won’t just wash off.”

“Okay.”

“So I’m making a responsible parenting decision here.” He held up the marker, watching her for a reaction.

“You’re their dad,” she said with a nod. “It’s your call.”

While he didn’t remember anything about them, being their father still mattered. In fact, as confused as he was, focusing on being their father had been what had held him together so far.

Sawyer pulled off the cap and took Lizzie’s hand. He wrote a small L on the back of her hand, and then blew on it to dry the ink. Lizzie looked down at her hand in curiosity, and he put her down on the kitchen floor, then reached for Bella’s hand. She held hers out happily, and he wrote a small B.

Bella pursed her lips to try and blow, and he laughed, then blew on her hand to make sure the ink was dry.

“There,” he said. “That’s one problem solved.”

It felt good—a victory. Olivia put Bella down, and the girls scampered off to a bucket of toys in the corner and dumped it out. He watched them for a moment... It still felt unreal that he was a father and that these little girls were actually his.