by Vivian Wood
“Where is…” Sawyer started, then stopped, his throat working.
Remy pointed to the glass door across the hall. Sawyer walked over and looked inside, going white as a sheet.
He saw, no doubt, what Remy saw every time she looked at Shiloh. The perfect reflection on his father, down to the dark hair and beautiful hazel eyes, the features just the same. Cut from the same bolt of cloth, unmistakably.
“Fuck,” Sawyer said, turning and walking down the hall.
He was clearly struggling to keep his emotions in check, leaning down to brace his hands on his knees, rubbing a hand over his face. When he finally returned to Remy, though, he seemed to have mastered himself.
“What do you need?” he asked, stone-faced.
“The doctor will want to draw some blood, ask some questions.” She bit her lip. “Sawyer…”
“Stop.” The single word rung through the air, a furious command.
Remy’s guts twisted, making her feel as though she might throw up.
“Please hear me out. Your father threatened me, said if I didn’t get rid of the baby, he’d come after me. He said if I involved you in any way, he’d ruin my life.”
Sawyer glared at her, unwavering. When he spoke, his words weren’t the forgiveness or understanding that Remy had secretly hoped for.
“Don’t speak to me, unless it’s about… him.”
Remy only nodded. Though Sawyer was before her now, she was already out of tears, overwhelmed and exhausted. She didn’t have the energy to talk about it right now, so in a sick kind of way, his refusal to talk was a relief.
For now.
“Miss River?”
She turned to find Dr. Lake in the hall, a smile on her face.
“Yes?”
“I have some great news. It looks like your son has a simple staph infection.”
Remy’s mouth opened and closed. “What?”
“It was hard to diagnose, because the infection is below the skin, but… it’s a very simple and quick fix. He can go home in the morning, assuming it clears up as we expect.”
“Oh thank God,” Remy said, pressing a hand to her heart. “Oh, thank you!”
“It’s my pleasure. I’m always glad to give good news,” Dr. Lake said. Cocking her head, she seemed to notice Sawyer in the corner, but Dr. Lake was too polite to ask.
“Thank you again,” Remy said, patting the doctor’s arm.
“No problem! I’ll keep you updated, but I think we’ll have to do a minor procedure here in a minute. We’ll probably need you guys for that.”
You guys? Remy wondered, then glanced back at Sawyer.
“Oh, he’s… uh… just here for support,” Remy said.
Sawyer pushed off the wall, nodded to Dr. Lake, and stalked off.
“Or not…” Remy said.
“Okay. None of my business. How about I grab a tray of tools and meet you in Shiloh’s room?” Dr. Lake said.
“Sure, yes. Thanks.”
Remy turned to see Sawyer vanish around a corner. If she had to guess, he probably wasn’t coming back.
“Shit.”
She took a deep breath, trying to push herself back into Mommy Mode. She still needed to take care of Shiloh, that was the whole point of this day. Of her whole life, actually, and all the deceptions.
For the good of her son.
Blowing out a breath and shaking her head, she forced herself to head back into Shiloh’s room.
There was no room in her heart for Sawyer, not today.
19
One glance at the little boy in the hospital bed was all it took.
Sawyer’s heart dropped right out of his damned chest. The dark hair, the upturned little nose…
Remy’s son could have been the photo-perfect image of Sawyer at that age. Or Walker, or Colt…
Roman men were undeniable that way.
When Remy called him, said what she said… a part of him questioned her sincerity. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was joking.
But one glance at that little boy, and he knew.
It was too much. He went right back to the overwhelmed headspace he’d lived in right after getting his papers from the SEALs… stressed beyond thinking, unable to take in anything new.
The second that he heard that the kid was going to be okay, he left Remy in the dust. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her, to think about all the lies…
It was only when he got out to the parking lot of the hospital and climbed in his car that he realized he’d never asked for the kid’s name.
Not the kid. His kid.
“I have a son,” he said out loud, hesitant.
The words felt they burned his throat as he said them, they were so bitter.
Throwing his Range Rover into drive, he pulled out of the parking lot and headed back toward home. Only he didn’t quite make it there, because the idea of facing Colt and Walker made him want to throw up.
They’d known, of course. Had to.
Why the hell would his brothers, closer to him than anyone else in the entire world, lie to him about something like this? He didn’t know fuck-all about kids, but that one was at least a couple of years old.
So the lies had been going on for years.
Drumming his fingertips on the steering wheel, he took a sharp left and drove up to Satchel Creek, an old favorite of his camping spots. He had some gear in the trunk, so a quick pit stop at a gas station was all he needed to set him up for a few days of quiet reflection.
He thought that the drive out there, the short but steep hike up the side of the canyon, and setting up his little campsite atop the crest would have mellowed the edge of his rage.
Apparently not. He built a little fire, staring into the flames. Ate some beef jerky and drank some beer.
None of it helped. He felt like one big, raw nerve, like he was wearing his heart on his sleeve and the whole world was made of razor wire.
He’d been so stupid. Remy, her family, his own brothers… they’d all played him for a fool, because he was one.
No wonder Remy had been so damned resistant to his flirtations. She was walking around with this huge secret, hiding a big part of herself away and hoping… what?
That he never noticed?
What was her grand plan? That he just… never realized he had a son? Maybe that he went back to D.C.?
Or worse, maybe she’d planned to be the one to leave.
It did seem likely, given her options.
“Fuck,” Sawyer muttered, shaking his head. “This is fucked up.”
Grabbing his cell phone, he called Colt.
“Hello?” Colt answered. Sawyer could hear a feminine giggle in the background.
“Were you ever planning on telling me about Remy?” Sawyer snapped.
“Ohhhhh….” Colt said. “Hold on, man.”
Sawyer heard a rustle as Colt moved somewhere quieter.
“Hey. Uhh… did Walker tell you?”
“No. Remy called me and told me my kid was in the hospital, actually.”
Silence for several long seconds. “Shit. I’m so sorry, man.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?” Sawyer thundered.
“Well…” Colt said, then stopped.
“What?”
“I thought it was Walker’s kid.”
“WHAT?” Sawyer roared.
“Calm down! Just… the timing was odd. I thought maybe…”
“Fuck off. It’s my kid.”
“Well… okay.”
“Remy told me that The Colonel threatened her.”
Colt seemed to mull that over for a second. “Can’t say I’m that surprised.”
“I can’t fucking believe you. You and Walker both.”
“Sawyer…”
“Fuck off.”
Sawyer disconnected the call, losing the last bit of his patience. He turned the phone off and stretched out on his sleeping bag, staring up at the stars.
In his heart, he was mourning.
He’d missed so much, deceived by everyone he knew. If Remy or one of his brothers had been honest, if his father wasn’t such a thug, things might have been so different.
He might have come home to a hell of a surprise, yeah. But at least he could’ve made decisions for himself. He might have taken his papers sooner, left the SEALs early and come home to take care of his girl.
And if she’d been honest, right from the jump, he would’ve put a ring on her. Baby or no baby, probably.
Hell, he was half in love with her now, even after she’d betrayed him in the worst possible fucking way.
His stomach churned as he thought of the wedding they might’ve had, the trials and tribulations of going through the pregnancy together. Raising their son, as a couple.
Now, it was all bitter ash in the wind, a fantasy that would never be.
How could he ever trust her again?
He drifted off to sleep, heartsick.
20
By the third day of camping, he was running low on rations. He was also starting to think a little more rationally, or at least more kindly toward Remy.
Actually, he was starting to feel guilt. That was his overwhelming emotion as the sun dipped low, ready to drop below the horizon. Once he’d raged about the deception, he couldn’t help but think of Remy’s side of things.
She said she’d written, and he believed her.
He could imagine how she’d felt, thinking that he was ignoring her. Thinking that he didn’t care about the mess he’d left behind, the mess he’d made of her life.
No wonder she’d slammed the door in his face the first time she saw him again. She probably thought he’d finally shown up to claim paternity, take her kid away like The Colonel had apparently threatened to do.
Yeah, she’d done the wrong thing. Yeah, she’d fucked up big time.
But he still felt for her. Truthfully, she’d suffered a lot more in all of this than he had.
That night down at the swimming hole, when she talked so wistfully about all the things she wished she could do…
He hadn’t understood, then. Kept telling her that she could do anything she wanted.
That wasn’t even close to the truth, not if she was caring for a kid and trying to keep her family farm afloat.
So yeah, he understood some of it. A little.
That didn’t help him a whole lot, though. He had a kid who’d never seen his face. He had brothers and a girl he couldn’t trust. A father who’d blatantly tried to bully his girl into getting rid of the pregnancy…
A massive ranch project, with contracts signed, saying that he had to deal with these people every day for at least the next couple of years. All his own idea, so there really was no way to back out.
So what the hell was he supposed to do now?
Uncertain, he decided to hike for a bit, burn off a little energy. At least that way, maybe he’d sleep tonight without dreams of desert sand and death.
21
When he got back to camp, he was surprised to find Walker sitting next to the campfire, sipping what looked like a fresh beer.
“No traitors in camp,” Sawyer said, rolling up his sleeping bag.
“Hey, I thought I was protecting you.”
“From a three year old?” Sawyer asked with a scowl.
“No, I thought Remy and Colt hooked up.”
That gave Sawyer pause. “That’s fucked up, man. You can go ahead and go now, though.”
“I’m here to report on Shiloh.”
Sawyer arched a brow.
“Your son?” Walker asked.
“Oh.” Sawyer scratched the back of his neck. “I didn’t get around to asking his name.”
“No, I see that you’re busy out here in the wilderness,” Walker said, glancing around.
“Well? What’s the report?” Sawyer asked, already impatient.
“He’s doing fine. He’s home with Remy.”
“You went by?”
“No, actually. She called looking for you, told me to pass on the message.”
“Hmm. She’s full of information, suddenly.”
Sawyer pointed to the six-pack that Walker had brought, and Walker broke one off to toss it over.
“So… Shiloh.”
“Yeah, it’s a good name,” Walker said carefully.
“For a kid that doesn’t know that I exist,” Sawyer said, popping the tab on the beer. “Perfect.”
“So you’re still in the heavy sarcasm and anger portion of your trip,” Walker said, waving a hand.
“What am I supposed to feel?”
“I don’t know. Grateful that Remy’s taken care of your son, without asking for anything? Sad that you missed out on his younger life, eagerness to participate in the future?”
Sawyer shrugged. “I feel too many things to be able to sort any of it out.”
“Well… none of that really matters now.”
Sawyer paused. “Sorry?”
“You have a kid. That takes priority over your feelings now.”
“That’s a shitty thing to say to your brother.”
“Yeah? It’s like a tiny, tiny taste of what Remy’s probably been living with all this time.”
Blowing out a breath, Sawyer shook his head.
“Doesn’t make what she did right.”
“Nope. But it explains a lot. Mama bear protecting her cub? She’ll do about anything.”
Sawyer sipped his beer, staring into the fire. Thinking.
“I’m more mad at The Colonel than Remy,” he admitted after a minute.
“Fuck him,” Walker said. “He was a shitty father to us. He’s an even worse grandfather, apparently. Doesn’t change anything.”
“No.”
Walker was quiet for a beat, and Sawyer could tell that he was building up to something.
“This is your chance, man. You get to do better than The Colonel. Make sure your kid doesn’t grow up hating you.”
Sawyer sighed. “Yeah.”
“And… look, I hate to play the tragedy card here, man… but you’re the best off of the three of us. Colt’s leg is all fucked up, I’m fucking permanently alone after Jenny died…”
Sawyer kept his expression blank, though he was shocked at Walker’s words. He hadn’t heard Walker use his dead fiancée’s name since her funeral, maybe.
“You’re right,” Sawyer said, inclining his head.
“You get a chance to apologize to your girl, meet your kid… do it all over. Do you know how many people get a do-over? Not fucking many.”
Walker took a long sip of his beer, as if all the talking was working up a big thirst in him.
“So… what? I just forget that it all happened?” Sawyer asked.
“Maybe start with an apology, instead of expecting one,” Walker said. “You knocked Remy up. You changed her whole life. And yet, you don’t see her throwing a hissy fit about it, running off to hide in the woods.”
“Flattering.”
“Accurate.” Walker set down his beer bottle. “Even if it isn’t really your fault, it’s not truly hers, either. She’s put up with a hell of a lot, not asked you for a thing. I can tell you right now, I’d kill to trade places with you.”
Sawyer considered that. “Yeah, I guess she’s a pretty strong woman.”
“Wife material.”
“Jesus,” Sawyer said, rolling his eyes.
“What, you’ve never thought about it?”
“With Remy?”
“Yeah, with the girl who’s been devoted to you for most of our lives.”
Four years, she’d said. No matter what her reasons were, no doubt complex, she’d waited for him.
“Maybe I should start slow. Meet my son,” he said.
Walker nodded. “Not a bad beginning.”
“Yeah.”
They drank for a bit, poking at the campfire.
“So… you gonna come home, or just live out here like a mountain man?” Walker asked.
“Tomorrow.”
&nbs
p; “All right. Well… how about some company?”
“You brought your sleeping bag?”
“I was a SEAL too, you know. I don’t show up for anything unprepared, Sawyer.”
Sawyer smiled, his first in days. “All right.”
“All right?”
“All right.”
And that was enough, for the moment.
22
Back at the ranch, Sawyer showered and shaved before finally powering his phone back on. A few missed calls from Merissa, two from Remy. Three from a number with a 202 area code.
Washington D.C.
Could be anything, but…
He called back, figuring he needed a clear mind to deal with Remy.
“Hello?” came a woman’s voice.
“This is Sawyer Roman. I missed a few calls from this number.”
“Oh, Sawyer. Yes. This is Ariana Craig.”
Craig. As in, the wife of Darren Craig, his former unit commander. Also the only other person to make it out of their unit alive.
Sawyer’d only met Darren’s wife once, at a gala raising money for veterans, but he remembered her being a friendly face in a sea of strange civilians.
“Ariana,” he said, a dark feeling welling in the pit of his belly. “What can I do for you?”
“Well…” she said, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry. I wanted you to hear from me personally. Darren passed away two days ago.”
His heart skipped a full beat.
“But he was released from the hospital, wasn’t he? That’s what I was told.”
She drew a breath, shaky even over the phone line.
“He was never the same after he came back. I’m afraid…” she trailed off, sniffling. “I’m afraid he took his own life.”
Fuck.
“Ariana, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s… well, it’s not okay, but… I was hoping you might be able to come to the memorial service. It’s tomorrow. I know that’s short notice.”
“Of course. Whatever you need,” he said, gripping the phone tight.
“I’ll have someone send over the details.”
“Of course,” he repeated, completely at a loss for what to say.
“See you tomorrow.”
The call ended, leaving him staring down at his phone, his mind blank. He sat down on his bed, heart heavy, thoughts churning.