by Katie Lane
“Most folks won’t think this is cause for celebration. I think everyone is hoping I’ll quit saddle bronc riding, just like—” She cut off.
He finished for her. “Me. I get it, but we can’t let anything stop us from doing what we love.
She looked away and stared at the stack of diapers in the corner. “Even if the cost is too high?”
He figured he knew what she was talking about. While their friends were coupled up and having babies, he and Maisy were single with no prospect of having a family. “You’ll have time to start a family, Maze.”
She looked back at him. “What about you? Don’t you want a family?”
At one time, he’d dreamed about having kids. He’d known exactly the woman he’d wanted to start that family with.
Lauren had grown up with Sawyer and Mattie. She’d been the proverbial girl next door who changed from an annoying pigtailed pest to a stunningly beautiful woman. A woman Sawyer had fallen head over heels for. But a cruel twist of fate would keep him from getting the only woman he’d ever loved.
Sawyer had been born the outspoken twin who excelled at everything he tried. Mattie had been born the shy deaf twin who was completely overshadowed by his brother. Sawyer became his parents’ pride and joy while they treated Mattie like he couldn’t do anything without help. As he grew, Sawyer began to notice the imbalance. The joy he took in his parents’ praise faded and was replaced with anger at them for not seeing that Mattie was just as good at things as Sawyer was. He just couldn’t speak.
So Sawyer decided it was up to him to balance the scales. He stopped getting good grades and excelling at everything he did and started acting out and getting into mischief. He let the gold tarnish on his halo so that Mattie’s could shine. It had worked. The more undisciplined Sawyer became, the more praise his parents gave Mattie. Sawyer didn’t mind being the bad kid as long as Mattie got the attention he deserved.
At least, he hadn’t minded until Mattie fell in love with Lauren. He had given his brother everything and Mattie had taken the one thing Sawyer hadn’t wanted to give.
He picked up his beer and took a deep swallow before he answered Maisy. “No. I have no desire for a family.”
She studied him with concerned eyes. “But maybe one day you will, Sawyer. And you’ll want good health to enjoy your wife and kids.”
So that was it. She was still worried about what the doctor had said. “My brain is just fine.”
“That’s debatable. But I guess it’s your choice.” She got to her feet. “See you around, rodeo bum.”
“See you around, Maze.”
But he hoped he wouldn’t. She occupied way too many of his thoughts even when she wasn’t around. Which was why, once she was gone, he headed for the redhead at the bar. He needed to fill his head with something besides Maisy’s naked shower scenes.
The redhead was as beautiful up close as she’d been from far away. Unfortunately, she was a giggler. Everything he said, she giggled at. After a while, it became a little annoying and he made his excuses and headed back to the table. On the way, he made a pit stop at the bathroom. Dixie and Devlin were huddled together outside the ladies’ room. As he drew closer, he couldn’t help overhearing what the two women were talking about.
“She’s pregnant?” Devlin said in a hushed voice. “No wonder she was throwing up. Why hasn’t she told anyone?”
“She wanted to keep it a secret until—” Dixie cut off when the bathroom door opened and Maisy stepped out. She didn’t look well. Her face was pale and she held a hand to her stomach as she spoke to Devlin and Dixie. “I think I’m going to head on home. I don’t feel so good.”
Suddenly, Sawyer didn’t feel so good either.
Chapter Eight
Her daddy was dead.
Lincoln had pulled Maisy aside at Cotton-Eyed Joe’s and told her the forensics lab in Washington, D.C. had been able to identify the femur bone Boomer had found as Sam Sweeney’s. She’d shrugged it off as if it wasn’t a big deal, but a knot had formed in her stomach and gotten bigger and bigger until she’d made her excuses and left Cotton-Eyed Joe’s.
Now that she was back at her trailer, she felt drained. Like all the life had been sucked right out of her. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep.
She carefully removed her sling and got undressed, then she slipped on a t-shirt and boxer shorts. She didn’t realize the t-shirt she had chosen until she was standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom brushing her teeth. It had a picture of Waylon Jennings on the front. Waylon and Willie were her mama’s favorite singers and Maisy had grown up listening to their songs played over and over again on her mama’s CD player. Sometimes she’d catch her mama crying when certain songs came on and she knew those songs made her mom think of Sam.
Her mother had been head over heels for Sam and it had taken a long time for her to get over him and remarry. Because of that, Maisy had gotten it into her head that her father was worth loving. As a teenager, she’d started to blame her mother for Sam leaving. Her mama had always been a clingy-type of woman who could suffocate people. More than a few times in her life, Maisy had felt suffocated. Maybe that’s why she had spent so much time looking for Sam. Deep down, she had been convinced he was a good man who made a bad choice and she’d wanted to give him a chance to correct his mistake.
Now she couldn’t cling to that spark of hope anymore. Sam was dead. The merry-go-round had stopped and Maisy was now standing there trying to catch her balance.
A burning started at the back of her eyes and grew along with a tight pain in her chest. She grabbed onto the edge of the counter and tried to breathe. But the pain just grew worse until it burst out of her eyes in hot tears that rolled down her cheeks and dripped from her chin. Her knees gave out and she crumpled to the floor as loud sobs escaped her mouth. She had never been a crier, but she couldn’t seem to control the tears or the painful wailing.
Then, suddenly, she was being lifted up from the floor and pulled against a muscled chest that smelled of leather, soap, and horse.
“It’s okay, Maze. It’s going to be okay.” Sawyer rubbed her back in soothing strokes. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get this figured out together.”
His kind words made her cry even more, and she wrapped her arms around his waist and clung tightly as she finally accepted her father’s death. She didn’t know how long they stood there in the little space next to her bathroom, but finally she cried herself out and reality started seeping in.
She felt like the biggest fool in the world for acting like a crybaby in front of Sawyer Dawson. Her cheeks heated with embarrassment as she drew back and she refused to look him in the eyes.
“I bet you think I deserve the nickname ‘Little Girl.’” Her voice sounded nasally and congested.
He stepped into the bathroom and tore some toilet paper off the roll and handed it to her. “I think you have a pretty good reason to cry.”
She wiped her eyes before she loudly blew her nose into the toilet paper. “I guess Lincoln told you.”
“Lincoln knows?”
She glanced up. “He’s the one who got the call.”
“The call? What call?” His eyes looked confused. “Lincoln got the call from the doctor?”
Now she was confused. “A doctor?” She shook her head. “No. From the forensics lab about the bone being Sam Sweeney’s.”
He stared at her. “So you were crying about your daddy?”
“What did you think I was crying about?”
“Being pregnant.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m not pregnant. I told you that.”
He stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. “Give it up, Maze. I know you lied about starting your period.”
She stared at him in stunned shock. “How did you know that?”
“I overheard Devlin and Dixie talking about you being pregnant outside the bathroom. That’s why you brought up the tough choices bronc riders h
ave to make.” He sighed. “And I get it. You don’t want to have to stop doing what you love to have a kid. Which is why you didn’t tell me. You want to make that choice on your own.”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t. I mean . . . I’m not pregnant. Devlin and Dixie couldn’t have been talking about me. Especially when I haven’t told anyone about our tequila night.”
“So you did start your period?”
“Well . . . umm . . . no, but I—”
She cut off when headlights flashed in the window. Sawyer looked out and cussed. “Shit. It’s Lincoln and Dixie.” He glanced at her. “We’ll finish this conversation later. I mean it, Maisy. Don’t you dare go running off until we’ve had a chance to talk.”
“Fine, but there’s nothing to talk about. I’m not pregnant. And don’t be telling Lincoln and Dixie that I am. Or that I’ve been crying over my daddy. Lincoln worries enough about me as it is.”
Sawyer studied her for a moment before he walked over and took her chin in his hand and gently brushed the tears from her cheeks with his warm fingers. “Okay, I won’t say anything. But there’s nothing wrong with you being upset about your father, Maze.” A rap came on the door, but he didn’t release her chin to answer it. He just looked her with those pretty grayish-blue eyes that were filled with concern. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
With a reassuring smile, he released her and answered the door. Since they couldn’t all fit in her trailer, she and Sawyer went outside to talk. Which worked out much better because in the dark they wouldn’t see her swollen eyes.
Lincoln seemed surprised to see Sawyer there, but Dixie wasn’t.
“Oh, thank goodness you stopped by to check on Maisy, Sawyer.” Dixie give Sawyer a hug. “My husband has no common sense when it comes to dealing with emotional things.” She pulled Maisy into her arms. “I’m so sorry he dropped the information about your daddy on you in a public place. No wonder you didn’t feel good.” She drew back and looked at her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Well, I don’t care if you are fine, you’re coming home with me and Lincoln. And I’m not taking no for an answer. You need to be surrounded by people who love you tonight. Besides, we have the fall festival meeting tomorrow morning and you won’t have to make the long drive into town.”
Since Maisy didn’t have the energy to argue, she nodded. Dixie helped her pack an overnight bag and lock up the trailer. When they got back outside, Sawyer was gone. But Maisy knew he’d be back the following day. He wanted answers for why she had lied to him about her period. And she couldn’t blame him. It looked like it was time to tell him the truth about their tequila night.
She spent a sleepless night on Dixie and Lincoln’s couch, thinking about her daddy and how much Sawyer was going to hate her when she told him the truth. In the wee hours of the morning, she finally fell asleep. When she woke up, it was late and both Dixie and Lincoln had left for work. She found a note on the refrigerator from Dixie telling her to help herself to anything she wanted to eat. Maisy wasn’t hungry. Her stomach was even more knotted today than it had been the night before. So she skipped breakfast and took a long hot shower before she got dressed for the fall festival meeting.
With a good hour and a half to kill before the meeting, she decided to stop by the pharmacy for something that would settle her stomach. As she was heading to the antacid section, she passed the shelf of pregnancy tests.
She came to a sudden halt.
What if she took a test and showed it to Sawyer? Then she wouldn’t have to tell the complete truth. He wouldn’t have to worry about her being pregnant and she wouldn’t have to worry about him hating her forever. She picked up a pregnancy test. It would be a win-win for everyone.
“Hey, Maisy!”
Maisy turned and saw Luanne Riddell charging toward her with a shopping cart. Maisy quickly put the pregnancy test back and moved away from the shelf.
“Hey there, Luanne. How are you doing?”
Luanne came to a halt right next to her. “Horrible. Bud came down with a summer cold. And the ‘man cold’ is one of the worst things that can happen to a wife. Bud has been runnin’ me ragged for the last two days and moaning about how he’s dying. That’s why I’m here. I need to get some Nyquil. What are you here for?”
“Tums.” Maisy quickly changed the subject back to Bud’s man cold. “I can’t take Nyquil. It knocks me out.”
Luanne grinned. “That’s what I’m hopin’ for. I’m going to dose Bud up good before I head over to the planning meeting for the fall festival. Are you going to be there?”
“Yes. Sawyer and I are helping to plan the rodeo.”
“The festival is going to be such fun. I can hardly wait. I’m in charge of the arts and crafts fair because my homemade bracelets are such a big hit.” Luanne held her hand up and shook the many beaded bracelets she wore on her wrist. “If you want one, I’ll give you the friends and family discount.”
“Thanks, Luanne, but I don’t really wear a lot of jewelry.”
“Well, there’ll be lots of other things to buy at the fair. Miss Gertie and that cute Cheyenne Daily are going to sell some of the crocheted and knitted things they’ve been making. And Martha Dover is going to sell her handmade soaps.” Luanne leaned in closer and whispered, “Although I wouldn’t buy the lavender. It gave me a yeast infection that wouldn’t quit. You need to be careful what you put down there. Itching in that spot is no fun. Anyway, where was I . . . oh, yes, the arts and crafts fair. Raynelle has started making these cute bottle cap earrings—no doubt to compete with my bracelets—and Boone Murphy makes the most beautiful things out of wood. He made a cross for Debbie Marshall’s dead cat that would take your breath away.”
Maisy bit back a smile. “It sounds like the arts and crafts fair is going to be a huge success. I hope the rodeo will be as well.”
“With you and that hot Sawyer Dawson planning it, I’m sure it will. Well, I better quit gabbing and get the Nyquil to Bud so I can get to the meeting.” Luanne waved a hand before she headed down the aisle.
After she was gone, Maisy glanced at the pregnancy tests. But before she could pick the box back up, her conscience kicked it and she shook her head. No, Maisy, you aren’t your daddy. It’s time to tell Sawyer the truth. In fact, she would do it right after the meeting. It might be best to tell him when people were around . . . just in case he tried to strangle her.
On the way out of the pharmacy, she saw Luanne checking out.
“Didn’t you find the Tums?” Luanne asked.
Damn, she’d forgotten all about what she’d come in for. “Umm . . . my stomach is feeling better. Must’ve just been a morning bug.”
Luanne smiled rather slyly and nodded before she went back to her conversation with the cashier.
Since she still hadn’t killed enough time before the meeting started, Maisy wandered down the street looking in shop windows. When she came to the Simple Hardware store, she remembered what Luanne had said about Boone Murphy. The thought that popped into her head was foolish, but once it was there, she couldn’t seem to get it out. And maybe that’s what she needed to get closure. Something concrete.
She pulled open the door and stepped inside. No one was in the store, but she could hear arguing coming from the back room.
“Why does it matter if the hammers are lined up according to size?” Boone said. “If folks want a hammer, they go to the hammer section and find the size they want. And if they can’t find it, I’m happy to help.”
“It matters because nobody wants to shop at a store that looks like a jumbled-up mess,” Emma Johansen replied. “Just like they don’t want their store clerks to dress like old cowboys.”
“You know I help my granddaddy in the mornings and don’t have time to go home and change. And what’s wrong with dressing like a cowboy? Every man in town dresses like a cowboy.”
“But you’re not a cowboy. You’re a business owner and you shoul
d dress accordingly.”
“Well, maybe I’d rather be a rancher. Especially when being a business owner has only caused me grief.”
“Then become a rancher,” Emma said. “Don’t let the door hit you in the butt on the way out.”
“And give you the business? Never!” Boone walked out of the back. Maisy expected him to look angry. Instead, he had a big grin on his face as if he had thoroughly enjoyed arguing with Emma. The smile got bigger when he saw Maisy. “Hey, Maisy. I didn’t realize anyone was here. The bell on the door must not be working.” The bell had worked fine. Boone and Emma just hadn’t heard it over their loud arguing. “What can I do for you?”
“Luanne mentioned that you make wooden crosses.”
His eyebrows rose. “Actually, I make more tables and porch swings. But I’ve made a few crosses for people’s pets that have passed. Did you just lose a pet?”
“Yes.” It wasn’t really a lie. Her dog had died just last year. But the cross wasn’t for Banjo.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Boone said. “I’d be happy to make a cross for you.” He pulled out a notepad from beneath the counter. “What’s your pet’s name?”
“Can you just put ‘rest in peace?’ And I don’t want the cross to be real big. Just something small is fine.”
“This isn’t for that horse you found, is it?”
“No. Angel is fine and feisty as ever.”
Boone laughed. “I saw Lincoln in town the other day and he said the horse was a real beauty, but a little high strung. If they don’t find his owner, what will happen to him?”
“I don’t know. I guess they’ll put him up for auction.” Maisy hated the thought of the horse going to another abusive person. Or even a person who didn’t understand the horse’s history.
“I can have the cross finished in a couple weeks. Is that good?” Boone said.
“That will be fine. I’ll check back then.”
“Or you can give me your number and I’ll call you.”