by Cindi Madsen
“We’re all filled up right now. In fact, we just had to downsize. The last person we let go had been here for three years.”
This morning’s pep talk was a distant memory, and everything inside of her just sort of deflated. “Can I fill out an application in case something opens up?”
Gracie looked like she was about to say no, but Sadie must’ve looked as desperate as she felt, because her old nemesis pursed her lips and slid a paper across the desk. “You can take it, fill it out, and then just drop it back by next time you come this way.”
“Thanks.”
Sadie took the application and stumbled out of the bank, lifting her hand to shield her eyes from the cornea-piercing sunshine. She wanted to kick off her shoes, sit down in the middle of the sidewalk, and call it quits. From the looks of things, there wasn’t an open job in all of Hope Springs. Apparently she needed to wait for someone to retire or die before she got a job. What a nice, cheery thought.
If I wait for that to happen, I’ll just end up stuck here for years, my contacts and opportunities all dried up, and I can’t let that happen. I’m just going to have to convince someone—anyone—to give me a job.
She spotted the Hope Springs Animal Clinic and figured she could try one more place before quitting for the day. Big breath in, chin up, a confident expression and…go.
The second she stepped inside, her breath shot out of her, her mouth dropped, and her confidence fell in a puddle on the floor.
“…guess I’ll just pick up the cat then,” Royce said, and one of the two girls working the front desk turned and disappeared into the back.
It was worse than she’d expected, the inability to go anywhere without running into him. He seemed even larger in here than he had at the grocery store. Maybe it was his black cowboy hat, the dirty jeans that made it clear he’d worked all day, or his booted feet casually crossed at the ankle as he leaned his tall frame on the counter. Talk about the perfect image of a cowboy. At least she looked better than she had last night, although walking around in the heat all day had probably left her a little crumpled-looking.
“Can I help you?” the girl behind the desk asked.
Royce glanced over his shoulder. The smile died on his lips.
Oh my gosh, he haaates me.
“Miss Sadie?”
Sadie turned her attention to the girl behind the desk. She looked so familiar, but it took a couple of seconds to put together the pieces now that the braces were gone and her long hair was dyed blond instead of the brown shade it used to be. “Brianna?”
The girl Sadie used to babysit came from behind the desk and hugged her—they’d played Candy Land and colored in books filled with cartoon characters. Royce had even come over a few times while Sadie was babysitting. And here they all were standing in a circle.
So freaking weird.
“Guess what, I’m engaged now!” Brianna thrust her hand and diamond-banded finger in Sadie’s face.
And the weird just. Kept. Coming. “Wow!”
“Yeah, to Dusty Brooks.”
Cory’s little brother. Sadie automatically glanced at Royce, but his gaze was focused on a spot on the wall, even though there were only pictures of animals, and he couldn’t be that interested in the “Hang in There” poster with the cat barely clinging to a branch.
Oh, kitty, believe me, I’m trying, but I’m about to slip right off.
“Wow,” Sadie said again, because she didn’t know what else to say.
“Dusty competes at rodeos now, the way Royce used to. He’s getting really good, and people all around the state know who he is.”
Royce’s jaw tightened. Sadie wasn’t sure if it was caused by regret that he didn’t compete in the rodeo circuit anymore, or if he was just that annoyed by her presence. She had the oddest urge to reach out and squeeze his hand. Years ago, it would’ve been the most natural thing in the world, but now…
Well, now he’d probably jerk away and tell her to never touch him again.
The girl who’d disappeared into the back brought out a small carrier and set it on the counter. The cat inside was growling and attacking the bars.
“Poor little thing.” Sadie peered into the carrier. Whoa. Not so little after all. A big gray poofball with yellow-green eyes. “You’re gonna be all right, kitty cat.”
“That’s Oscar the Grouch,” Brianna offered.
“He’s less green and unibrowed than I remember.”
Royce gave a sort of snort-laugh, then his eyes met hers, and it was like he forced himself to put on a scowl again. Speaking of grouches.
Sadie reached her finger toward the metal squares of the carrier.
“He’ll bite you,” Royce said, but she ignored him, using her most soothing voice to tell the cat about how she’d be grouchy, too, if she were poked and prodded and shoved in a box. As soon as her finger hit his chin, he calmed and started to purr, rubbing up against the bars to get closer.
“So, Sadie.” Brianna settled into her chair and reached for her computer mouse. “Did you need to make an appointment?”
Sadie straightened, trying not to let the fact that she was suddenly sweating like crazy show. She didn’t want to say anything in front of Royce, but it looked like that wasn’t an option. “Actually, I’m lookin’ for a job and hoped you had an opening. I’m good with animals and—”
“No jobs here, I’m afraid, but Royce was just saying he’s looking for someone to help out at Second Chance Ranch.”
“Oh, no,” Sadie said at the same time Royce said, “It wouldn’t be a good job for her.”
They stared at each other for a beat, awkwardness crowding the space between them. Underneath the weirdness, though, anger was also rising up, and she’d never been good at biting her tongue. “What do you mean, it wouldn’t be a good job for me?”
“You said no.”
“Well, yeah, but…”
He crossed his arms, and seriously, when did he get a chest like that? And those muscled cords in his forearms. And was it hot in here? “But what?”
Good-looking and well built or not—and he definitely was—he was the most infuriating person she’d ever met. Thank goodness she hadn’t actually married him.
Instead of the satisfaction that thought should’ve brought, an icy lump formed in her stomach.
She ran her hand across her forehead and turned to Brianna. “If any job comes up—anything at all—please call.” She placed a card on the desk, even though it said she was a singer, which wasn’t totally true these days. It still had her cell number on it, anyway. “And congratulations again on your engagement.”
She spun and walked out of the office, thinking about how crazy it was that people as young as Dusty and Brianna were already engaged. Around here, though, it wasn’t uncommon for people to get hitched shortly after high school. In fact, it was the norm, and it wasn’t like they were getting married because the girl was knocked up or anything—though that usually followed pretty quickly, and there were, of course, plenty of cases of that happening. Sure, there were a few holdouts who waited until their thirties, which was somehow considered old and usually created gossip about whether or not he or she would ever settle down. And while there was the occasional divorce, most marriages around here stuck.
I so don’t belong here, Sadie thought as she walked back down the sidewalk as fast as she could in her heels, needing to hop into Grandpa’s truck and escape not only her failure to get any job leads, but also the angry expression on her ex’s face that seemed to be seared into her brain.
…
Royce watched Sadie’s retreating figure out the window. Back in the day, he’d chase her down and tell her he was sorry, like the whipped fool he was. If she thought he was still a pushover, though, she was wrong.
“That was pretty crazy how she tamed the cat like that, huh?” Brianna pushed a clipboard toward him. “He’s what we call fractious, which means he’s uncooperative and unruly, and we always have to sedate him when he’s
in here. I’ve never seen him calm.”
“Maybe you should hire her, then.”
“I know Dr. Jones isn’t looking for help, but I’ll still mention it.” She handed him the bag with the antibiotics and instructions for the cat, then pointed at the bottom of the paper on the clipboard. “Sign here, please.”
Royce scribbled his name and took the now-hissing-and-growling cat to his truck and set the carrier next to him on the seat. If he stuck his finger through the bars, he had no doubt Oscar would bite the hell out of him.
He closed his eyes and all he could see was Sadie. Today she’d had on red lipstick that brought out her full lips. Lips he used to be addicted to. Royce groaned, annoyed and semi–turned on all at the same time. How could she still do that to him so easily? Once in a while over the years, yes, she’d crossed his mind. A song that came on the radio would remind him of her, or a memory would come out of the blue and smack into him. But now that he was seeing her every day… She always did have this way of mesmerizing people. And it only got worse when she sang—or better, depending on which way you looked at it.
He fired up his truck and headed back toward the ranch. As he drove, he couldn’t help remembering the first time he’d heard her sing. Sadie Hart had transferred to Hope Springs High during their sophomore year. Her parents had gotten divorced and she and her mom had moved in with her grandparents. Of course he’d noticed her on her first day of school—she was new, and she was hot. But she’d immediately started dating Forrest Scott, one of the cocky running backs on the football team. While Royce kicked himself for not acting sooner, he was competing in a lot of rodeos and cute girls flirted with him all the time, so he’d decided to enjoy being single.
But then the Fourth of July rodeo came around and Sadie stepped up to the microphone to sing the national anthem. Moments before, he’d been focused on the upcoming roping event, just wanting to fast-forward to when he was on Chevy and swinging a lasso through the air. After that, he’d have to quickly shift gears to get his head right for bronc riding. The second she opened her mouth and sang that first note, though, he stood there at the edge of the arena, under her spell with the rest of the crowd. She belted out the song with so much soul he’d felt it in his—he’d never heard anyone sound that amazing a cappella, and he’d been to his fair share of rodeos, across several states. As she finished off the song, he thought, Holy shit, I think I’m in love.
He’d happened to be near the gate she was coming out of, so he tipped his hat at her and said, “That was real good.”
Her full lips curved into a heart-stopping smile, and she clamped onto his arm. “Really? I was so nervous when they handed me the microphone that I thought I was going to ralph, and I was totally regretting scarfing half a pizza earlier. Dude, I’m still shaking.” She gave a nervous laugh and then looked him over, her eyes slowly coming back to his. “Hey, good luck on the cowboy thing tonight. I’ll be cheering for you.”
And that was it. He was a goner.
So he started talking to her every chance he got—she had this infectious laugh that lit up her eyes, and she also did this shoulder-bump thing every time he cracked a joke. She was funny and quick, always with a comeback when most people never even got that he wasn’t being serious. Unfortunately, she was still with Forrest.
The day he found out they’d broken up, Royce strode up to her and said, “Go out with me.”
She turned to him, her eyes going wide. “Royce, I just—”
“Broke up with Forrest. I know. So go out with me. Dinner. Movie. Dancing. You pick. I’ll be at your house tomorrow night at seven and you can tell me then.” He walked away before she could say no, and his nerves were tangling themselves up in his gut.
But when he glanced over his shoulder, she was staring after him, and he knew that he’d never be the same again.
He’d been right. Just not in the way he’d expected.
Chapter Four
Going through these pictures was torture. She should rip them down without looking. Why was she studying each one?
But she couldn’t stop.
For one, she’d been forced to pass them by a dozen times over the last few days, and she was sick of it. Two, she didn’t have a job or anything else to do, and three—and really, it was the main reason—she looked so blissfully happy in all of them. The few months after she’d moved to Nashville had been hard. She’d missed home and had found herself halfway through dialing Royce’s number on several occasions. Each time, she’d force herself to stop and go out with her new roommates—there’s no moving on when you’re still holding on to the past, and she knew hearing his voice would completely undo any progress she’d made.
Eventually, it got easier. The city was alive, events happening day and night; she’d met great people and started booking singing gigs. She was doing what she loved and, before long, it became home. Lately, though, she’d had to put on a lot of fake smiles, even during some of her auditions. Once she started singing and everything else faded away, they’d turn genuine, because when she was performing and tingly energy wound through her, all that existed was her and the song.
But the picture version of Sadie was the kind of happy that looked like she was in on some big joke. Then there were the pictures where she was looking at Royce like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.
As she ran her eyes across the picture of them, him in his Wranglers, his too-big jacket draped over her, noses so close they almost touched, she remembered what it was like being Royce Dixon’s girl.
She’d noticed him her first day at Hope Springs High—how couldn’t she? But he’d hardly talked to her, unlike Forrest, who’d showered her with attention and had been her first boyfriend here. Once she started talking to Royce, though, she’d learned that underneath the steely, badass cowboy shell was an amazing guy who was quick-witted and had a soft spot for his family and his horse. They’d quickly become friends, and she developed a wicked crush—even though she was still with Forrest.
The second she was single, Royce had asked her out, and she knew she didn’t stand a chance at a respectable period between relationships. She’d heard people talk about electricity and butterflies; being with Royce was like a lightning storm and hummingbirds. She’d actually gasped the first time he’d pressed his lips to hers. Then he’d enveloped her in his arms, deepened the kiss, and made her forget anything else existed.
No wonder the Sadie in the picture is smiling. She was experiencing the best relationship of her life. As pissed as she was at the younger girls for squabbling and dissolving the band she used to be in, she couldn’t really talk. She’d let a good thing slip between her fingers before, too.
The knock on her door made her jump, and the pictures in her hand slipped to the floor, scattering in all different directions. Memories she’d have to pick back up and relive all over again.
Mom walked in, wearing her Mickey Mouse scrubs. She worked for the local pediatrician, who was, embarrassingly enough, still Sadie’s doctor. She’d never seen any reason to change, what with Mom working there and all. Well, unless it was time for a gyno visit. Then she traveled as far as possible, since awkward run-ins with someone who’d examined down there would be highly likely anytime she went for a stroll through town.
“I need you to take the quilting stands back to Caroline, along with a pie I baked for her as a thank-you for letting me borrow them. And Grandpa wrote Royce a check for the hay and set it by the pie, so make sure you get that, too.”
Sadie stared at Mom for a moment, waiting for her to say, Just kidding! After the longest pause ever, it was clear she wasn’t going to. “Caroline Dixon? You want me to drive out to Second Chance Ranch and talk to Royce and his mom?”
“Grandpa took Grandma to Salt Lake to check out ovens at Lowe’s, and I’ve got to go to work. But the quilting stands are already loaded into the back of the truck, thanks to your grandpa.”
Part of her couldn’t believe her grandparents were drivi
ng a couple hours to Utah just to go to a home improvement store, and the other part of her was sad they hadn’t taken her. She always took the city for granted until it was far away. “Can’t it wait? And who even writes checks these days? I couldn’t find my checkbook if I tried.”
Mom crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.
“Fine. I’ll take care of it. This isn’t some attempt you and Caroline cooked up to get me and Royce talking, is it?”
“Yes, I run around like a crazy person with no time so that you have to face your ex-boyfriend.”
Clearly, her love of sarcasm had been inherited from Mom—that and the strawberry hue in her hair when it was au naturel were about all she’d inherited from her. They’d never been the type to sit down to have heart-to-hearts. Part of that was because Mom was always so busy, but it sometimes felt like they just didn’t speak the same language, which in turn, often left Sadie upset at Dad for moving on so easily, sending a check in his place, as if that’d make up for his absence in her life.
Luckily, Sadie had always had a connection with Grandpa, and she’d spent hours sitting with Grandma, who’d always listen and then chime in with great advice, so if anything she had more parents instead of fewer after the divorce.
That, as well as becoming friends with Quinn, and eventually Royce, had changed her perspective from thinking moving here was the tragedy she’d first thought it was. The friends she’d made in Nashville were fun to hang out with but not great with the deeper stuff, and she missed having people around whom she could share everything with.
Mom wound her hair into a bun. “I’ll be off around six. There’s chicken thawing, so if you wanna start peeling potatoes about a quarter till, that’d be a great help. Then we’ll fry up the chicken and make gravy. Oh and there’s a load of clothes in the washer, but I ran out of time, so switch them to the dryer for me, okay?
“Thanks,” she said without waiting for an answer, then pressed a quick kiss to Sadie’s forehead and rushed out of the room, leaving her with that same dropped-through-the-wormhole feeling. It really was like high school all over again. Sadie didn’t mind helping—in fact, it’d be nice to have something to do—but she wondered why Mom would ask Grandpa if she was okay, but not her. They hadn’t even talked about what had happened with her contract falling through, or how after that, she’d choked and screwed up her only other steady gig.