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  “I like to help people. I don’t belong here anymore.”

  “What are you, really? Special Ops—and you don’t want us to know? A spy?”

  He didn’t smile. “I’m just a doctor.” Or I was. He wouldn’t elaborate. If Logan couldn’t accept his apology for nearly missing his wedding day, he could live with that. He had a bigger guilt to wrestle with—and that was on him alone. He wasn’t about to share. “Listen. Just as you asked, I’ll stay with Sam while you and Blossom take your honeymoon. I hope you have a great time.” He held his breath. “We okay, then?”

  Logan shrugged. “I’ll see how you do while I’m gone. Think I’ll try to get some sleep,” he said, then turned and went up the stairs.

  Sawyer let out a sigh. But he wasn’t alone for long. Logan had no sooner disappeared than Olivia came down the steps. She looked wan, exhausted, and Sawyer didn’t want to face her, not after their earlier conversation.

  “You look beat. You can have my room, Olivia.” The words sounded strange to him. Sawyer hadn’t slept there in over nine years, but the wallpaper, the bedspread, the pictures on the desk were still the same. He’d left that room, this ranch, behind a few days after Olivia married his brother.

  He tried a half smile. “I’ll take my pillow, though, if you don’t mind. Took me a long time to get that punched down just the way I like it. I’ve missed that.” Missed you, he thought, but he could never say so and certainly she didn’t feel the same way about him.

  Olivia cleared her throat. “Fine. Or I could take this sofa.”

  “Wouldn’t hear of it. You need a good night’s rest.”

  “You don’t?”

  “I’ll need to check on Nick periodically.” He already dreaded that. The boy wasn’t his responsibility and yet tonight he was. Being near Nick made him more than uncomfortable, afraid he’d do something wrong again, maybe with catastrophic results. Yet he owed Olivia—and had for years.

  “Thank you, Sawyer.” The sound of his name from her lips made every muscle in his body tense. “This certainly isn’t a holiday for you. Leaving your busy practice, coming back for Logan...ending up with another case on your hands.”

  “For tonight.” For you, he thought. He paused. “I’m not really practicing medicine now. While I’m here to help out at the Circle H, I’ll need to make some decisions about my future.”

  “You wouldn’t go back? To wherever you’ve been?”

  Sawyer hesitated, then mumbled something vague about Kedar. Their friendship had ended, she’d married his twin brother instead...and Sawyer hadn’t been the same since.

  “Don’t know,” he said. “Don’t need to know right now.”

  Olivia glanced down at the rug, then up again. Her eyes held his. “There must be some reason for your indecision.” She waved a hand as if she were indicating his clinic, which seemed unlikely. She didn’t know about what had happened there.

  Sawyer had told Logan enough for one night. He wouldn’t enlighten Olivia. No one else had to know about his mistake—not this far removed from the clinic, and certainly not at the Circle H, where he’d experienced the other two worst moments of his life. Losing both his parents at once and, later, driving Olivia away.

  Anyway, he wouldn’t be able to get the words out without crumbling into pieces. Olivia was the last person he’d confide in. He couldn’t risk showing her his weakness, which would only reaffirm what she must still think of him.

  “I need to check on Nick,” he said and started for the stairs.

  CHAPTER THREE

  BY THE NEXT MORNING, Nick seemed much better. Olivia was not. Although she felt relieved about her son, a glimpse in the bathroom mirror had showed her a too-pale woman with dark shadows under her eyes. At the kitchen table, she sipped coffee and made plans to leave the Circle H as soon as Nick finished his cereal.

  His face had color again and he continued to shovel in his breakfast as if he might never see another meal. Sometimes he astonished Olivia with the amount of food he could take in, which should have eased her mind. Her growing boy.

  “Eat up, punkin. We need to go. I have an appointment out of town today.”

  Nick spoke around a mouthful of Cheerios. “Who’s going to watch me?”

  With school out for the summer, she’d have to rely on her usual babysitter, but in last night’s chaos she had forgotten to double-check. “Susie,” she said.

  Olivia yawned. She hadn’t slept well in Sawyer’s bed, imagining his scent in the room, surrounded by the trappings of his younger life. And worried about Nick, she’d only dozed, waking with a start each time to wonder if he was okay.

  Once in the night, she’d met Logan in the hall with the same intent to see their son, and another time she’d nearly run into Sawyer. Her mind foggy, Olivia had hurried back to her room.

  “Why can’t I stay here today?” Nick asked, nearly knocking over his orange juice. “I could ride Hero.”

  His new horse was a bone of contention for Olivia, who hadn’t been consulted before Logan bought the gelding. She’d been working on becoming less protective of Nick but had a hard time keeping her mouth shut about this. Logan argued he’d rather see their boy on a steady mount than trying to handle one of the other, sometimes unpredictable, horses already in the Circle H stables. He was too big now for a pony.

  She had to admit the gentle gray gelding with a showy black mane and tail took good care of Nick. She shouldn’t worry, not about that at least.

  “No Hero today for you.” Logan had appeared in the kitchen doorway, and Olivia appreciated the backup despite wondering how long their united front would last. “Nicky, that’s not a good idea. Grandpa Sam will set you up with the TV instead. You can watch a movie, play a video game...”

  Nick gave him an assessing look. “Daddy, I want to ride.”

  Logan smiled at Blossom, who had joined him in the doorway. They both wore a visible glow this morning. He caught Olivia staring at them.

  “A different wedding night than we’d planned,” he admitted. “We both passed out as soon as our heads hit the pillows. We’ll be talking about that for years.” On his way by, Logan ruffled Nick’s hair then headed for the coffee maker. “I know you’re feeling better, but you took quite a spill last night. Hero can wait for a few days. Okay?”

  Nick didn’t answer. He crunched more cereal. Obviously unhappy, he refused to look at Logan, and Olivia saw the little frown between his brows that, in such a young face, always clutched at her heart. She set aside her coffee cup, then rose from the table.

  “I appreciate the offer to keep Nick, but I’ll see that he plays quietly today at home,” she said, making a mental note to call Susie. Olivia turned to Blossom, who was pouring a glass of orange juice. “Are you guys leaving today?”

  “The car’s already packed.” She hugged Olivia. “Thanks for coming yesterday. I know that wasn’t easy for you, then Nick had his accident... That was quite a scare, but since he seems to be fine, yes—we’ll start for the West Coast.”

  That had been Blossom’s dream when she’d fled the nightmare of her previous relationship. On the run from her abusive fiancé and determined to protect her unborn baby, she’d thought if she reached California she’d be free. Olivia was glad she had a happier occasion to celebrate now and the coming baby to look forward to soon.

  Blossom and Logan were driving west. Her pregnancy was far enough along that she didn’t feel comfortable flying, and some airlines didn’t permit that in the last trimester. They also wanted to see the sights on their way.

  “I’m good,” Nick said to his cereal bowl. “My head hardly hurts at all.”

  Another pair of footsteps clattered down the steps and Sawyer came into the room. He looked at Olivia as he spoke, his tone thin. The conversation must have drifted up the stairs to him. “He really should stay
here.” As if he didn’t want him to but felt he had to suggest that. “With Sam,” he added.

  Was he omitting himself? Sawyer had always had a passionate streak, taking chances, riding the rankest horse. Olivia felt certain he’d carried that into his career as a physician, one who must deal often with trauma worse than Nick’s fall yesterday. His history of making quick decisions, taking risks, would be an asset.

  Yet she saw a new difference in him. Olivia couldn’t put her finger on what that was, but she saw it in his eyes. He seemed to be hiding something deep inside.

  She stared into her half-empty cup. The riskiest thing she planned to do was to possibly move away from Barren.

  “Did I hear my name?” When Sam wandered into the kitchen in search of coffee, too, she almost groaned. He and Nick liked to hang out together and she expected Sam to weigh in about Nick, but he surprised her. “Sorry, won’t be here today. With Logan gone, I have work to do.” He didn’t mention Sawyer.

  She felt almost sorry for him. He still had his troubles with Sam and Logan.

  Olivia gathered her bag and the sweater she’d brought yesterday in case the air grew cool during the reception. “My sitter can watch Nick. I’ll fill Susie in on his fall so she’ll make sure he takes it easy. Let’s go, punkin.”

  She wondered if she imagined the relief on Sawyer’s face.

  * * *

  AFTER OLIVIA LEFT with Nick, Sawyer wandered down to the barn. Aside from last night, he hadn’t been there in nine years. The familiar smells of hay and leather and manure assailed his senses, taking him back to another time when life had seemed simpler—when as a boy, then during college, Sawyer had lived for this barn, these horses. Back when he’d expected to take over the Circle H one day.

  Then, after Sawyer’s first year of med school, Olivia had married his brother, and Sawyer had stopped coming home. Sometimes he thought part of his reason for opening the clinic in Kedar three years ago had been to get so far away from Barren that he’d never feel tempted to contact Olivia again.

  This morning he couldn’t get past his new feelings of guilt, and to make matters worse, he was still worried about Nick.

  My head hardly hurts at all. Sometimes, as Sawyer knew only too well, kids tried to cover up or downplay their symptoms, or they couldn’t articulate what was wrong until it was too late. Yet, even the Hippocratic oath couldn’t convince Sawyer it was his place to make Nick stay at the ranch or to watch over him. Olivia had decided to leave, and she was Nick’s mother.

  In the quiet sunlit aisle of the barn, he talked for a few minutes with a couple of ranch hands. The pair was saddling a bay mare and an Appaloosa gelding. Willy and Tobias were getting ready to ride fence, he supposed. Once he went back up the hill, he’d be alone in the house. He had nothing to do. “I could ride with you,” he offered, although he hadn’t been on a horse much in recent years.

  Willy, a tall man with dirty blond hair and a sly manner Sawyer didn’t like, eyed him up and down, obviously noting his new jeans and boots. “Rough work,” he said. “Wouldn’t want to mess you up.”

  Tobias, who was older and had a wiry build, snorted. “Fancy duds.”

  Sawyer flinched. They didn’t want him to go with them. Okay, he got that. Once he’d been a pretty fair hand. Now, with rusty skills, he’d only get in their way. He’d likely cut himself on some barbed wire and remember he was overdue for a tetanus shot.

  Tobias and Willy mounted up. With a tip of their hats, they ducked low to ride out of the barn, looking more comfortable in their well-worn saddles than they did on two legs. As their horses trotted toward the pasture gate, he heard the two men laughing.

  Leaning to open the gate, Willy called back. “Come over to the Wilsons’ later if you want to help. We’re rounding up some missing cattle.” A wedding guest last night had mentioned a trio of rustlers who’d tried to clean Grey Wilson out, but they’d been caught and the local ranchers had offered to help bring the cows home. “Logan’s prob’ly got some old clothes you can borrow. Pickup keys are in the black truck.”

  Sawyer watched them go. He was only here to help Sam and get his own head together. After Logan returned from his honeymoon, Sawyer would leave. Yet Grey was an old friend. How could he not drive over to Wilson Cattle, at least offer to pitch in?

  But Grey was also Olivia’s brother. What if she was there later, too? He didn’t relish another awkward conversation with her.

  He half wished Nick had stayed, a ready excuse for Sawyer to remain at the Circle H all day, not that the kid had exactly taken to him. He’d examined Sawyer with curiosity, confused him at first with Logan, then seemed to dismiss him.

  Besides, Nick reminded him of that other child he hadn’t been able to save. The memory of that boy, who like many others had been pulled from the landslide rubble, made him feel guilty all over again. His dreadful mistake had cost a young life, and he couldn’t seem to forgive himself for that, either.

  How possibly to atone?

  There was no way to bring back that dark-haired, dark-eyed child or to relieve the sorrow Sawyer had seen in his parents’ eyes. He could only guess how that must hurt.

  At the age of eight, Sawyer had lost his mother and father in a road accident. They’d been on their way home the day before his and Logan’s birthday. It was Sam who’d raised them, adopted him and Logan, who’d been here all these years like a father to them.

  The memory of his parents had saddened him. It seemed that everyone he loved, he lost.

  Sawyer drifted down the barn aisle, stopping here and there to say hello to each horse that sidled up to the stall bars and poked out a soft nose. He didn’t realize Sam was in the next stall until Sawyer walked up to peer at the black colt inside.

  The horse’s ears flattened against his skull. His eyes rolled, showing the whites. Not a good demonstration of his nature.

  Sam lifted his head. “Better keep back.” At the horse’s side, he’d been bent over, picking the colt’s hooves. “He doesn’t like strangers.”

  Sawyer obeyed. He didn’t fear the horse, but he wouldn’t agitate him and get Sam into trouble. Moving around in an occupied stall could be dangerous.

  He assessed the animal with a cool eye. He had good conformation—beautiful, in fact. His glossy black hide shone in the soft light coming through the stall window that opened onto the barnyard. The colt danced around, reminding Sawyer of another horse years ago, shifting his hindquarters one way, then the other as if he were doing a samba. “He looks like a real handful.”

  “Oh, he is,” Sam said but with apparent pride. “Picked him up at a sale. Guy there told me this one’s daddy was a prizewinner—champion barrel racer—but his baby showed no signs of following in his hoofprints. I got him for a song.” Still hunched over, Sam glanced up again. “Cyclone has no manners. And he bites.”

  “You love him,” Sawyer murmured. He could see that in Sam’s eyes.

  “I will.” He straightened, then lightly swatted Cyclone on his near flank to shift him over. “Once he learns how to behave.”

  “Has he had any groundwork?” The horse, which appeared to be a yearling, wouldn’t be ready to ride until he was three, but he needed to learn some of those manners long before that. Sawyer’s hand all but twitched to feel a lunge line in his grasp, with one flick of his wrist to get the colt moving with a fluid, forward gait in the corral.

  “Logan offered to work with him,” Sam said, “and so has Grey Wilson, but neither one has gotten around to that, much less breaking him first.”

  Sawyer didn’t like the term break. It implied ruining an animal’s spirit. He preferred a gentler touch.

  Years ago, he’d not only been a better ranch hand in the making than his twin brother, he’d also trained a few horses. One of them, at an advanced age and probably now in retirement, still lived in the end stall by the b
arn doors. On his way through, Sawyer had slipped him an apple. Another, Sundance, was Sam’s horse and now Logan’s part of the time. Another...had belonged to Olivia, but that horse wasn’t here or at Wilson Cattle.

  “I could give the colt a try,” he said, testing the waters. He wasn’t the only one to remember that other horse. He doubted Sam would trust him with the colt.

  Sam blinked. “Been a while since you handled a green one like Cyclone.”

  “I’m willing to try, though. While I’m here,” he added.

  “He’ll need lots of attention. You plan to stay that long?”

  “I don’t know. Depends on what you mean by long.” Yet Sawyer felt his spirits begin to lift. Frankly, this morning he’d been feeling sorry for himself. Regretting his reluctance to take responsibility for Nick’s care. Knowing he wasn’t part of the Circle H anymore, part of anything, really. His partner, Charlie, in the clinic had seemed half-relieved to see him go. Sawyer’s presence was a constant reminder of what had happened there, and he guessed Olivia felt similarly about him. He’d be doing her a favor to keep away from her.

  Sam was right. He wouldn’t stay long, didn’t know where to go when he left, much less how to find redemption for his sins. Still...

  He reached through the stall bars, taking the chance to stroke the colt’s nose. For his first attempt at friendship, he got a sharp nip that broke the skin on his index finger. Sawyer snatched his hand back.

  “Told you.” Sam shoved the horse aside to slide open the door. “Saw him take off the tip of someone’s ear a couple months ago.” He stepped out into the aisle, then threw the bolt, shutting Cyclone inside.

  Sawyer looked at the colt for a moment. It seemed suddenly important to establish his temporary niche at the Circle H, give himself something to do while he was here. Maybe with Cyclone he’d do better than he had with a scalpel in his hand in Kedar. By the time he left, the black colt might have the foundation to become a decent horse. If Sawyer didn’t fail again.